


Alfred Approved

by SheOfTheBookAndSong



Category: Emma - Jane Austen, Emma Approved, Victoria (TV)
Genre: Alfred is a Dumbass, Alternate Universe - Jane Austen Fusion, Banter, Bisexual Edward Drummond, Bisexual Florence Kerr, Bisexual William Peel, Cafe AU (sort of), Drumfred, Emma AU, Emma Approved AU, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Jane Austen Love Triangle Shenanigans, M/M, Romantic misunderstandings abound, nobody is straight, seriously he's so oblivious it's impressive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 108,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25705180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheOfTheBookAndSong/pseuds/SheOfTheBookAndSong
Summary: Alfred Paget and Edward Drummond, who live in the small English village of Highbury, have been roommates and best friends since they started at university. Despite Edward's occasional attempts to bring him back to Earth, Alfred is convinced that he is a born matchmaker. But Alfred may soon find that he's not quite as much of an expert as he thought. Is it possible that he's misreading not just other people's feelings, but his own as well...?Basically, this is Emma by Jane Austen, with Alfred Paget in the role of Emma Woodhouse and Edward Drummond in the role of Mr Knightley. This version of Austen's tale, though, is a lot less early-nineteenth-century, and, as a Drumfred AU, also a lot less straight.
Relationships: Edward Drummond (1792-1843)/Alfred Paget (1816-1888)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bardwich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bardwich/gifts).



> And I'm back again with a new Drumfred story! I've been missing writing for these boys!
> 
> I know that 2020 has thrown us all a lot of curveballs, so I thought I might give you all a bit of a warm, fluffy and (hopefully) funny comfort fic. So, here is a Jane Austen fusion/Modern Day AU for the boys, with a little bit of Cafe AU thrown in for good measure!   
> This time, I promise the angst will be minimal - though I cannot promise Edward and Alfred (*especially* Alfred) won't be complete idiots...
> 
> So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of 'Alfred Approved'!

“Alfred? Could you please help me?”

Alfred Paget turns away from his reflection to see Edward Drummond, his roommate and best friend since they started university, standing awkwardly in the doorway of his bedroom. 

Edward is looking rather gorgeous in the tux that Alfred had picked out for him, not trusting him to choose his own outfit that didn’t involve a ridiculously loud shirt or an oversized jumper - his tall and dark good looks certainly don’t hurt either. 

But the overall effect is undercut somewhat by the way Edward is awkwardly fidgeting with the bow tie around his neck. Apparently tying it by himself is beyond his capabilities. 

Alfred can’t help but grin fondly, even as he rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically, moving over to Edward and batting his hands away impatiently as he makes quick work of tying his bow tie for him. 

“You know, you’re really going to have to learn to do this yourself one of these days,” Alfred tells him. “It’s not _that_ difficult.”

“It’s just annoying,” Edward mutters, pulling at it, his face slightly flushed as Alfred steps back from him. 

“How come I don’t have any trouble with it, then?” Alfred asks smugly. 

“I don’t know...witchcraft?” Edward suggests with a shrug. 

Alfred chuckles, shaking his head. 

“I wish. Hogwarts letter is running a bit late, if that’s the case.” 

Edward cracks a grin at that, and Alfred can’t help but grin back at him. 

“C’mon, we’d better get going. Wouldn’t want to turn up late to a wedding, particularly not a wedding that _I_ orchestrated in the first place. Got everything? Alright, let’s go, hurry up.”

Edward sighs as Alfred chivvies him out the door, locking the apartment behind them. 

“You did _not_ ‘orchestrate’ this wedding, Alf.”

“Less talk, more walk, please, Drummond,” Alfred responds chirpily as he shepherds his best friend down the corridor. “And I did too orchestrate this wedding. It wouldn’t even be happening if it weren’t for me.”

“Oh, come on,” Edward scoffs. “I know you like to take credit for everything, Alf, but _this_ ? _Really?_ ” 

“Yep,” Alfred answers, unfazed by Edward’s disbelieving expression. “Think about it. Your boss Robert Peel, who adores you so much that he wants to spend time with you socially outside of work - you introduce him to me. I, using my powerful natural intuition, immediately deduce that the man has been lonely ever since his divorce. And so I introduce him to my wonderful family friend Emma Portman - she’s brilliant, kind and thoughtful, but also sorely needing to get back in the dating game after _her_ divorce. Both of them clever, political, determined and ambitious yet thoughtful - but both lonely and desperately needing to find love again. I knew from the very beginning that the two of them were a match made in heaven; so, all it took was a little push here, a little nudge there, and _voila_ , magic! And now, we’re about to see the result - a wedding and a happily ever after! I mean, I knew I was good, but I didn’t know I was _this_ good.”

Edward sighs again. 

“Yes, Alfred - I already knew all of that, funnily enough. But it’s a bit of a stretch to claim that you made this wedding happen, Alfred. Obviously they’re grateful to you for introducing them - though I might add that _you_ would never have met Robert in the first place if it weren’t for _me_.” 

Alfred waves this reminder away as irrelevant, and Edward continues. 

“But regardless, the two of them dating and falling in love, and Robert proposing - I’m pretty sure that was all them. You really didn’t have all that much to do with it. It’s not like you caused Robert to propose - I mean, the most you ever did was tell me that you thought the two of them would make a great couple. And then, when we heard that Robert had asked Emma out, you said to me ‘Ha! Told you so!’ And then after we heard that he had proposed to her and she’d accepted, you continued to tell me ‘told you so’...y’know, just in case I hadn’t heard you the first five hundred and fifty times.”

Alfred pauses for a moment, furrowing his brow as he considers Edward’s words. Then his face clears, leaving nothing but certainty.

“Nope,” he says. “I’m still pretty sure it was me that made this wedding happen. Because I’m the best matchmaker. The couples I put together stick together. And I’ll prove it again - you’ll see.” 

Edward huffs out an exasperated sigh. 

“Sure, whatever. You’re the best matchmaker.” 

“I know I am,” Alfred responds gleefully. 

He knows Edward is trying to look cross with him, but as usual the effect is somewhat ruined by his affectionately amused expression as he shakes his head. 

As the lift deposits them in the car park of their apartment building and Edward begins fumbling for his keys, they lull into relative silence for a few minutes - apart from Edward muttering under his breath, which Alfred chooses to ignore. Edward’s just annoyed that he lost the argument, and he doesn’t want to admit it. 

A few minutes after they’ve set off, though, Alfred decides he’d better break the silence with a new topic, because he hates it when Edward is actually upset with him. Not that he would be now. But just in case. 

“I can’t believe that we’re _still_ not going to meet Will Peel this evening. I mean, I know his job keeps him very busy and travelling all over the world, he’s a high-flying businessman, yada yada - but come _on!_ His dad never shuts up about him, I’ve been wanting to meet him for _ages_ to see if he lives up to the hype - and now it turns out his work is keeping him so busy that he can’t even come back to the village for his own dad’s _wedding_ ? I mean, can you _believe_ that?!”

“Yep,” Edward responds bluntly, without taking his eyes off the road as he drives. 

“Yep?” Alfred echoes, looking at his best friend in shock. “What do you mean, _yep_?!”

He sees Edward bite back a grin at the indignance in his voice. 

“I mean yes, I can very easily believe that Will Peel can’t be bothered to come to Highbury even for his dad’s wedding,” Edward says calmly, shrugging. 

Alfred continues to stare at him indignantly until Edward glances momentarily away from the road to meet his gaze, before giving a small sigh and elaborating. 

“Look, I never understood why you were so fascinated by the idea of Will Peel, or why you seem to have got it into your head that he must be this wonderful guy, just because his father harps on about him constantly. I mean, he doesn’t seem all that wonderful to me. I kind of always got the impression that Robert fawns over his son, but Will couldn’t really give two shits about his father, or what his father thinks of him.” 

“Maybe he’s just a bit of a rebellious and sexy bad boy,” Alfred muses with a grin. “I mean, I’d tap that.” 

Edward grimaces.

“Maybe. _Or_ maybe he’s just an immature, self-absorbed manchild who’s completely ungrateful for everything his dad’s ever done for him. Everything I’ve ever heard about him has made me think he must be pretty full of himself,” he answers sceptically. 

Alfred gapes at him. It’s pretty unusual for Edward to have a bad word to say about _anybody_ \- especially the son of a man he admires so much. Especially somebody he’s never even _met._

“Are you sure you’re not just jealous?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Because you saw me stalking Will on Insta the other day and you saw how ridiculously pretty he is?”

“ _What?”_ Edward asks indignantly. “Of course I’m not jealous...that’s _ridiculous_ …”

“You know you’re pretty too, right?” Alfred says, cutting across his grumbling, and Edward, predictably, flushes scarlet. “You don’t need to be jealous.” 

“I told you, I’m _not_ jealous!” Edward protests. 

“Well, regardless, you’re making a pretty cynical snap judgement about someone you’ve never even met.” 

Edward glances over at him again. Alfred raises an eyebrow, and Edward sighs slightly, acknowledging the hit. 

“I just feel like, no matter how busy this guy is with work, if he was really a thoughtful person who took other people’s feelings into consideration, he might make a bit more effort to show up for his own father’s _wedding_.”

Alfred just looks at him silently, raising his eyebrow still higher. Edward avoids his eyes as he carefully manoeuvres the car into a parking space outside the wedding venue. Once the car is parked and the engine turned off, Edward chews on his lower lip for a moment, before finally turning to meet Alfred’s gaze. Alfred recognises that look. It’s Edward’s ‘truce’ look. 

“Okay, fine. For all I know, Will Peel is the loveliest guy in the world, and he was desperate to come to his father’s wedding and congratulate his new stepmother. Maybe he’s really upset that his work is keeping him so busy that he can’t see his dad. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt if you want me to. Who knows, maybe I’m wrong and you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Alfred responds immediately. “You know that.”

Edward rolls his eyes, though he can’t hold back a small grin. 

“Of course. How could I forget?”

“Speaking of which,” Alfred says, smirking slightly, “we should really head inside so we’re not late for Robert and Emma’s wedding. You know. The wedding which _I_ orchestrated.”

Edward sighs again.

* * *

Next morning, as Alfred wipes down a table for the next patrons, he tries not to wince too visibly as his head throbs. 

Hartfield Cafe might be a pretty great place to work, and his boss Victoria might be funny and cool as bosses go, but he still should have known better than to tell her he was fine to come into work today. The wedding ceremony had been beautiful, just as he’d predicted, and the reception had been fabulous - apart from Will Peel’s absence, of course. Nevertheless, the hangover he’s experiencing now is by no means insignificant, despite all the water that Edward had made him drink when they’d got home, and he hadn’t dared to call in sick on such short notice when he knew Victoria was counting on him. In fact, he’s trying his hardest right now not to give her any reason to think he’s functioning at anything less than an optimal level; Victoria might be small, but she’s also one of the scariest people Alfred has ever met. He certainly wouldn’t put it past her to give him a bollocking if she thought he was providing crappy customer service. 

Edward bites back a grin as Alfred walks over towards the table in the corner where he’s sitting with his laptop open in front of him, which only increases Alfred’s irritation. Edward knows perfectly well how hungover he is right now - he’s the one who coaxed him out of bed, bribed him to go to work by making pancakes for breakfast and gave him a lift to the cafe, after all. But it’s annoying to see him looking so sprightly and awake as he sits there in that oversized burgundy jumper that he loves so much, coffee cup in front of him, hastily pushing his glasses back up his nose and looking back at his laptop screen as he sees Alfred shooting him a scowl. Edward’s not hungover at all, of course - and Alfred knows he would probably be feeling a lot less shitty right now if he had actually listened to Edward last night when he’d told him to slow down a bit because he had work in the morning. Not that he’d ever tell Edward he was right, of course. 

“Don’t you have an office to work in or something, Drummond?” he grumbles. 

“I guess I just can’t get enough of you, Alf,” Edward snarks back at him, rolling his eyes - although his attempt at sarcasm is somewhat ruined by the way he flushes slightly as he speaks.

Alfred rolls his eyes back at him, although he can’t help but grin slightly as he does. It always amuses him that Edward blushes so easily. It’s kind of adorable, actually, truth be told. 

“You’re lucky your boss loves you so much, you know,” he responds. 

“Robert’s on his honeymoon at the moment, Alfred, I very much doubt he cares about where I’m working from right now,” Edward answers, grinning. 

Alfred huffs by way of reluctantly conceding his point.

“Yeah, but you’re _always_ here.” 

Edward shrugs. 

“Well, I guess he doesn’t mind if I work from here because he knows I always get my column to him before the deadline. Makes no difference to him if I’m here or actually _in_ the Donwell offices, as long as I get the work done.”

Alfred rolls his eyes again.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a good boy, I get it,” he mutters. 

He knows his hangover is making him more irritable than he’d usually be; but when Edward smiles at his tone, he can’t help but smile back at him, feeling his annoyance lessen. 

Edward opens his mouth to respond, but their conversation is cut short as Victoria stomps over to them, looking rather bad-tempered and frazzled. Instinctively, Alfred shrinks away from her slightly, worried that he’s already done something to annoy her. 

“Good to see you’re working so hard, Alfred Paget,” she says sardonically.

Alfred opens his mouth to defend himself, but then shuts it again immediately, realising that he doesn’t really have much of a leg to stand on right now. 

“If the two of you could possibly manage to stop flirting for just five minutes -”

“Excuse me, we were _not_ flirting!” Alfred says indignantly, feeling that this at least is an unjust accusation. He can see Edward blushing again out of the corner of his eye, which really isn’t helping his case. 

“Whatever,” Victoria responds with a dismissive wave of her hand, clearly uninterested in his argument. “I’ve got a code red, Alfred, so I’d appreciate it if you could tear yourself away from Edward here, handsome as he may be.”

“Code red?” Alfred echoes, frowning. 

Victoria gives an exasperated sigh. Evidently, she’s not in the mood for lengthy explanations right now. 

“If you were actually paying any attention at all, Alfred, you would have noticed that we’ve got a new recruit over there. Name of Florence Kerr. It’s her first day working here, she’s nervous and she’s just learning the ropes, and if you actually look, you’ll see that she’s already managed to get herself into a confrontation with the _Duchess_ , of all people.”

Alfred looks where she’s pointing. Sure enough, there’s an unfamiliar pretty blonde woman on the other side of the cafe, looking almost as if she’s on the edge of bursting into tears. And Alfred can’t really say he blames her, given that she’s trying to deal with Mrs Grey, a regular customer at the cafe who’s such a cantankerous and domineering old battleaxe that the staff have taken to mockingly nicknaming her ‘the Duchess’ behind her back. In fact, there’s usually only two staff members who can deal with her without coming out of the confrontation in tears - Victoria and Alfred. And Victoria seems pretty busy right at the moment, unlike Alfred who is, admittedly, standing here arguing with Edward and trying to _look_ busy. 

“Seems to me like the poor girl could do with some backup right about now,” Victoria says pointedly. “That is, if you could possibly spare a moment from your very important conversation?”

“Okay, okay, I’m on it!” Alfred says hastily, as Victoria gives him a look that could kill a lesser mortal. As he hurries off to rescue the terrified new girl, he hears Edward giggling behind him, though he quickly turns it into a cough, presumably because Victoria has turned her death glare on him. 

“It’s _what?!_ ” Mrs Grey is shouting at the poor girl. 

“It’s French onion soup, ma’am,” Florence Kerr replies timidly.

“ _French?_ Well, get it away from me then, I’m not eating that!”

“But...it’s what you ordered…”

“I most certainly did not! I ordered just _onion_ soup, good, hearty, wholesome English food! I would never have ordered anything _French_! And as for this strange bread you’ve given me - ”

“It’s a baguette,” Florence whispers - 

“I’m not eating that either - it’s such a peculiar shape! So take this back to the kitchen and get me some proper food at _once_ , young lady, or else I may just have to speak to your manager!”

Florence nods, looking like she’s two seconds away from bursting into tears. Hastily, she picks the bowl and cutlery up again - but in her highly nervous state she fumbles and the bowl slips through her fingers. Luckily, Alfred dives in and catches it just in the nick of time before it goes crashing to the floor, unscathed but for a few splashes on his apron. _Not bad for someone with a raging hangover_ , he thinks to himself smugly. 

“Mr Paget, isn’t it?” the Duchess sniffs. 

“Yes, that’s right, Mrs Grey. And how are you today?” he responds, flashing her a winning smile. 

“Hmph. I’d be a lot better if the staff here could get my order right. I ordered onion soup, not _French_ onion soup. I’m glad to see there’s at least _one_ competent staff member left in this cafe, Mr Paget. Tell me,” she says, gesturing towards Florence, “why does Ms Hanover insist on hiring these new young people who clearly haven’t a clue what they’re doing?”

“I’ll have a new dish sent to you in just a flash, Mrs Grey,” Alfred responds with another smile, neatly dodging the loaded question. He shoots an apologetic sideways look at Florence Kerr and gestures for her to follow him behind the counter. 

“I’m _so_ sorry about her,” he says to Florence in an undertone as they walk away. “Don’t worry, it’s not you at all. She’s a domineering old cow to everyone; we call her _the Duchess_ round here because she’s so convinced that she’s better than everyone else.”

Florence smiles a little, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. 

“You just need to know how to handle her,” he continues, smiling at her encouragingly. “One of the things to remember is that we never _tell_ her that it’s _French_ onion soup. If you just announce it as onion soup, the old bat will eat it happily without a fuss. Right now, for instance, I’m going to send this bowl to the kitchen to be reheated, and then I will present it back to her as good old hearty _English_ onion soup. She won’t notice any difference, and she knows me, so she trusts me. Well, I suppose she might trust me a little bit less once I’ve dumped some tabasco in this to give her a bit of the kick that she deserves.” 

Florence laughs, and Alfred grins at her, happy to have helped her feel a bit more at ease. 

“I’m Alfred Paget, by the way.” 

“I’m Florence Kerr.”

“I know you are,” Alfred grins.

“How did you…? Oh,” she says, flushing slightly as he tilts his head in Victoria’s direction with a grin, the smile vanishing from her face. “I guess Victoria had to tell you that the new girl needed her mess clearing up, right? God, I can’t believe I’ve managed to look like such an idiot on my first day…”

“Hey, no, don’t be silly,” Alfred protests. “I told you, she’s like that with everyone. You didn’t do anything wrong at all.” 

“You’re sure I wasn’t just being incompetent?” Florence asks in a small voice. 

Alfred tilts his head slightly, studying her.

“Seriously, though - you okay?” he asks her. “I mean, you seem really nervous. I know it’s your first day working here and all, and the Duchess is a lot for _anybody_ to be expected to handle, let alone on their first day - but is there anything else that’s worrying you?”

Florence bites her lip, looking curiously at him as though trying to figure out how genuine his concern is. 

“Well, I, uh...I’m new in town, and...um...how long have you got?” she asks with a nervous laugh. 

He grins with another quick glance over at Victoria. 

“Well, I think Vic might kill me if I encourage you to sit down and have a heart-to-heart chat on your first day at work,” he responds, and Florence’s face falls slightly. “But I am genuinely curious, and I definitely want you to feel happy and comfortable. So how about you come over to my apartment after work today so we can have a proper chat?”

Florence beams at him, flushing in surprise as though she hadn’t expected anybody to be nice to her. 

“We could get some Chinese takeaway and you could have dinner with me and my roommate, if you like? That’s him over there, by the way. Edward.” 

He gestures in Edward’s direction, and grins a little as he sees Edward looking quickly back down at his laptop out of the corner of his eye, pretending he hadn’t been watching them. Florence’s eyes widen slightly as she takes him in, which doesn’t surprise Alfred; it’s a pretty common reaction from women when they catch sight of Edward for the first time. 

“I...yes. I mean, thank you. I would love to hang out with you guys tonight.”

“Good. That's settled then,” Alfred responds, beaming at her. “Definitely seems like you could do with some friends right now.”

* * *

  
  


“No way! You were born here in Highbury?” Alfred asks, grinning as Edward doles out more kung pao chicken for Florence and passes her bowl back to her.

She nods, looking far more relaxed than earlier as she thanks Edward. 

“Yeah, I actually went to primary school here for a few years, before my family moved to Scotland. Fast forward fifteen years and I’ve finally moved back here by myself to start studying law at uni. But I’m studying my bachelor part-time so that I can earn some income at the same time, so I just started working at the cafe. But you already know that part. Obviously.” 

“I’m studying part-time at the moment too,” Alfred tells her. “I’m just finishing up my Masters in Ancient Literature. Edward here’s got a proper adult job, though, he works as a political columnist. Not that you’d know it, the amount of time he spends sitting in the cafe with his laptop,” he grins, nudging his best friend. 

“I do my work there!” Edward protests, as though he’s worried Florence might get the impression that he slacks off. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Alfred says, turning back to their guest. “So, you’ve moved back to Highbury all by yourself? Are you missing your family?” 

“I, um...not really,” Florence responds, her smile fading. “My dad’s kind of an arsehole. He gave me a lot of anxiety issues. I couldn’t really wait to get away from him.” 

“That’s rough,” Alfred commiserates, giving her a sympathetic smile. “I’m really sorry.”

“Thanks,” Florence says awkwardly. 

“If it makes you feel any better, my parents aren’t exactly fabulous either,” Edward pipes up, smiling at her as well. “After I met Alfred when we started uni, his family basically adopted me and my sister Charlotte. So I know how you feel.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one, then,” Florence replies, her face relaxing a little. “Though to be honest, it wasn’t just my dad. My ex-boyfriend was pretty crappy as well, he always used to tell me I wasn’t good enough. I think he was jealous that I got the marks to get into law and he didn’t. I could have gone to uni closer to home, but...I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to get away from them both. Anyway, here I am. Fresh start and all that.”

“Yikes. I’m so sorry, Florence. You deserve _so_ much better than all that,” Alfred tells her, as Edward nods fervently next to him. 

“Thanks,” Florence says quietly, with a small smile. 

“God, straight men are just the _worst_ , aren’t they?” Alfred continues. “Must be rough to be a straight woman sometimes.” 

“Oh, I’m...I’m not actually straight,” Florence replies awkwardly. “I’m bi.” 

“I...oh.” Alfred responds lamely. 

Florence smiles a little. 

“What? You’ve never met a bisexual person before?”

“What? Don’t be silly, of course I have!” Alfred protests. “Edward here is bi, in fact,” he says, nudging him. “Not that he’s particularly good at talking to boys _or_ girls, but…”

Edward sticks his tongue out at him and Alfred smirks a little before turning back to Florence. 

“I guess I was just a little surprised, that’s all,” he tells her hastily. “Personally, I’ve never been into girls at all - but if I was at all inclined in that direction, I’d definitely consider dating women. I mean, I _adore_ boys, as Edward can tell you” - Edward winces slightly - “but there’s certainly a _lot_ of shitty guys out there. Women are better, on the whole.” 

“That’s true,” Florence agrees, laughing. 

“Want some more wine?” Alfred asks her, lifting the bottle and gesturing towards her empty glass. “Speaking of shitty guys, I could tell you a story or two…”

  
  


After Florence has gone, thanking them profusely for inviting her and being so kind to her all the way out, Alfred shuts the door and turns to Edward, beaming in excitement.

“Well? Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah, she seems lovely,” Edward responds, smiling at the look on his face. “I’m glad you invited her.”

“What? No, not that! Well, yeah, I mean obviously she’s a sweetheart, but that’s not what I meant....don’t you see? I can build her self-confidence! I can adopt her! I can make her life so much better now she’s come to Highbury, I’ll make it my new project! And, best of all, I can find her the perfect new partner! That crappy ex-boyfriend of hers didn’t deserve her in the slightest - but I can find her somebody who _does_ deserve her, who treats her right and helps her to be the amazing woman she’s destined to be!!”

Edward’s smile has faded. 

“Alfred…”

“What? _What_?” 

“Just...be careful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alfred demands. 

“Just that...look, I know you want her to thrive and be happy here. I do too. And she _is_ lovely, I can see that. And I know you mean well, but maybe just...slow down. She’s nervous and vulnerable -”

“I know that, Edward, that’s why I’m going to help her!” - 

“I know, Alf, but I’m trying to say that you should be careful not to get carried away, and be careful not to overwhelm her. And I don’t think you should be presuming you know what’s best for her, either.” 

“Can’t you have a _little_ more faith in me?”

Edward softens slightly.

“I do have faith in you, Alf,” he says. “You know I do. But -”

“Well then, listen to me! I told you that I was the one who brought Robert Peel and Emma Portman together. I told you I’m a great matchmaker, and I told you I was going to prove it by doing the same for someone else. Well, Florence Kerr is that person. And _I_ am going to find her a happy ending. You’ll see.”

Edward sighs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Florence has met somebody special - but Alfred isn't exactly ecstatic about it.
> 
> What's Edward to do when Alfred just isn't listening to him? Find somebody to vent to, of course...

“What are you smiling about?” Alfred asks. 

“What?” Florence responds distractedly. 

Alfred grins. 

Over the course of her first three weeks at the cafe, Florence has gradually been looking a little more relaxed and at ease - at least, she’s not fumbling bowls of soup through her fingers anymore, or constantly looking like she’s about to cry. Alfred thinks that his guidance is doing Florence a lot of good - though he has a feeling that the way he’s subtly led her away from the Duchess whenever he’s spotted her probably hasn’t hurt either. 

He’s glad to see her settling in so well; but he’s never seen her looking _this_ happy as she comes in to the cafe, grinning to herself as though she’s remembering some hilarious joke that somebody had told her, her face slightly flushed, eyes bright. 

“I’ve just never seen you look so excited; hell, you’re practically bouncing, Florence. So? What happened?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” she responds, still beaming. “I just, uh, bumped into somebody.” 

“You ‘bumped into somebody’?” Alfred echoes, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Must be somebody pretty special.”

Florence catches onto his tone and immediately blushes, confirming his suspicions. 

“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that, it’s just...I ran into this girl at uni, this girl I went to primary school with here before I moved to Scotland! We fell out of contact years ago, I had no clue she was still studying here in Highbury - but it was so nice to see her again, Alfred!”

“What’s her name?”

“Mina. Mina Coke.”

Alfred furrows his brow for a moment, thinking, then shakes his head. 

“The name sounds vaguely familiar, but I don’t think I’ve met her. What’s she like?” 

“Oh, she’s really really lovely, actually,” Florence enthuses, “I’m sure you’d love her! So it turns out she’s studying to become a primary school teacher - we sort of recognised each other straight away when we ran into each other on campus, and we decided to sit down for a coffee and catch-up because it’s been a really long time, and she showed me some of the artwork she’d been doing in her journal and it was _so cool_ , and there were some of her poems in there as well and…”

As he watches Florence gushing over this mysterious girl, Mina, Alfred can’t deny that he feels a little disgruntled. After all, as he told Edward, he’s taken it upon himself to find Florence a partner who’s worthy of her. She’s evidently got a pretty huge crush on this Mina right now, but he’s not just going to sit here passively instead of helping her find the _right_ person! He’s never even met this Mina Coke - how can he be sure she’ll be good enough for Florence, help her to reach her full potential? Alfred supposes he needs to actually meet her before he can make any fair judgement - he _did_ call out Edward for his bias against Will Peel, after all - but still, he’s not sure about this. 

On the other hand, maybe this isn’t a big deal at all. Maybe it’s just a tiny, passing crush that will be forgotten about as soon as Florence sees the other options that Alfred is going to introduce her to. Maybe the best option, for now, is just to make sure she isn’t dwelling on this girl too much?

“She sounds great, Florence,” he says, cutting through her gushing. 

She beams.

“You think so?”

“Sure - I mean, I guess I can’t really say much until I’ve met her properly, right?”

“Oh,” Florence says, her smile fading a little. “Right.”

“But you can tell me more about this Mina later,” he responds, giving Florence a smile that feels a little forced. “Hey, how about we go and help Nancy? She looks kind of swamped over there, don’t you think?”

He can tell Florence is rather reluctant to leave the topic of Mina Coke, but as he gestures towards their colleague Nancy Skerrett, who is struggling to clean up the mess left by a large group of rich middle-aged mothers and looking like she’s on the verge of swearing loudly, Florence nods with a small smile and begins to move over to her. She never passes up on an opportunity to prove herself helpful. 

Alfred lets out a small sigh, glad that he’s managed to shut down that conversation. For now, at least. 

* * *

“Alfred? What are you doing?” Edward asks the next day.

“Hmm? I’m just giving you your coffee, Edward,” Alfred replies innocently as he puts a mug and plate down on the table in front of his roommate, where he’s sitting with his laptop open as usual. 

“You’re giving me coffee _and_ a cinnamon swirl cake.”

“I’m giving you coffee and a cinnamon swirl cake,” Alfred agrees.

“But I didn’t actually order the cinnamon swirl cake,” Edward points out.

“I know you didn’t,” Alfred answers, shrugging. “But I could see the stress furrows on your forehead while you were typing, and I also happen to know you adore our cinnamon swirl cake. So I took the liberty of bringing you a slice with your coffee. It’s on the house,” he adds, as Edward opens his mouth to reply. 

Edward sighs and shakes his head slightly.

“Alf, you can’t just keep giving me free stuff, you know. That’s not really how a cafe is supposed to work.” 

Alfred shrugs again. 

“It’s fine, today’s a quiet day.”

“Well then, all the more reason -”

“Seriously, Edward, don’t worry about it,” Alfred insists. “Everyone knows you’re a regular and everyone loves you, you know that. Besides, I don’t want you getting hungry while you’re working.”

Edward looks at him with a soft smile on his face. 

“I...thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Alfred responds, grinning back at him. He’ll never understand why Edward kicks up such a fuss whenever he does anything nice for him. 

The bell on the door tinkles and Alfred looks up to see a delicately pretty little blonde woman in a brightly coloured floral dress walk into the cafe, looking around with a nervous but excited expression on her face. 

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he says to Edward. “I’m just gonna…”

He gestures to the new arrival and Edward nods - but before he can move, Florence practically sprints past him, almost knocking him sideways into Edward’s lap. 

“It’s okay, Alfred, don’t worry, I’ve got this!”  
Alfred stares after her as Edward makes a small sound of amusement. 

“Well, she seems keen.”

“Yeah…”

“Hi Mina!” Florence says to the petite blonde newcomer, sounding a little breathless. “Fancy seeing you here - small world, right?”

The little blonde woman beams back at her. 

“Hi, Florence! Well, you made Hartfield Cafe sound so lovely the other day, I thought I’d better come and check it out for myself!”

“Amazing - you can grab a seat here by the window, let me just grab a menu for you…”

“Mina Coke,” Alfred says, half sighing, half groaning. “Of _course_.”

“Well, those two certainly look like they’re having fun,” Edward says with a grin, before catching sight of Alfred’s expression. “I’m missing something here, aren’t I?”

“Florence told me about Mina Coke yesterday,” Alfred mutters to him in an undertone. “Apparently they went to primary school together; they fell out of contact years ago, when they were kids, I think, but it seems they ran into each other at uni and caught up for coffee. It was obvious Florence is crushing on her pretty hard.”

“Well, from the looks of things, it doesn’t seem like Florence’s crush is one-sided, does it?” Edward says, grinning again as he gestures towards the two of them. 

It’s lucky the cafe is relatively quiet today; the two women are both blushing and giggling rather a lot, and Florence seems to be taking an inordinately long time writing down Mina’s order. Victoria is in the back taking inventory at the moment, which Alfred supposes is the only reason Florence hasn’t been cornered yet. 

“No, it doesn’t look one-sided,” Alfred agrees reluctantly. “I was kind of hoping this thing might blow over quickly but…”

“You were hoping it would ‘blow over’?” Edward echoes, looking bemused. “Why? You wanted Florence to be happy here, didn’t you? Well, she looks pretty happy from where I’m sitting. Those two look kind of adorable together, actually. I’m happy for them.” 

“‘Happy for them’? Edward, you’re _so_ naive sometimes!” Alfred complains, fighting the urge to facepalm at his best friend’s words. 

“Naive? How am I naive?” Edward protests. 

“Firstly, it’s a bit early to be saying you’re ‘happy for them’ as though they’re already a couple, and secondly - we don’t know anything about this Mina Coke! How can we be sure she’s a good match for Florence? I haven’t had a chance to check their compatibility yet!”

“Their ‘compatibility’?” Edward echoes, raising an incredulous eyebrow. “Alfred, we’ve talked about this. Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do _what_?”

“Don’t just assume you know what Florence wants better than she does!”

“Edward, she’s my friend, I’m trying to look out for her!”

“Are you sure you’re not just annoyed that she’s found somebody without your help?” 

Alfred shoots him a death glare and Edward hastily backtracks a little. 

“I’m just saying...Florence looks pretty happy right now, Alf, so can’t you just leave her be? Alfred? Alfred!”

Too late. Alfred is already walking over to the two of them, shoulders back, polite smile on his face, ready for battle. Edward sighs. 

“Florence?” Alfred asks brightly, and the two women jump slightly at the sound of his voice, as though they had completely forgotten they were in public. “Are you done taking that order? Only I think Victoria was wanting some help.”

“Oh - right,” Florence responds, looking rather flustered. “You wanted the…”

“The gnocchi sounds delicious,” says Mina, smiling up at Florence, her cheeks flushed. 

“Right,” Florence replies, darting a nervous little sideways look at Alfred. “I’ll just go give your order to the kitchen - I’m sure Alfred can keep you entertained for a bit. I’ll be right back.”

She scurries off and Mina turns to Alfred, fidgeting slightly. Alfred appraises her, giving her a winning smile. 

“It’s Mina Coke, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s right. Well, Wilhemina Coke, technically, Wilhemina is my full name, but nobody ever calls me that because it’s a bit of a mouthful and it makes me sound old-fashioned and I used to get mercilessly teased for it in school and frankly I’m not sure what my parents were thinking, so eventually I started begging people to just say Mina instead and -” she flushes slightly and trails off when she realises that Alfred is staring at her, rather taken aback at being given what seems like her entire life story. “Anyway, yes, Mina is fine,” she concludes awkwardly.

“Nice to meet you, Mina. I’m Alfred Paget.” 

“Alfred Paget! I’ve heard a lot about you, Alfred Paget!”

“You have?” Alfred asks, slightly bemused. 

“Oh, yes - Florence says you’re absolutely wonderful!!”

“She does, does she?” he replies, trying not to look too pleased with himself, especially as he knows full well that Edward is watching them surreptitiously from behind his laptop. 

“She does! She was ever so grateful to you for rescuing her from my aunt on her first day here! And it’s no easy feat to distract my aunt when she’s on a roll - believe me, I know how scary she can be!”

“Your aunt?” Alfred echoes, staring at her. “Mrs Grey is your aunt?” It’s a strange thought to think that this awkward girl is related to the Duchess - the two of them couldn’t be any more different. 

“Yes, that’s right!” Mina replies, beaming at him. “I apologise on her behalf - I know she can be a handful!”

“So then you’re related to -”

“Yes, James is my cousin!” she says, sounding thrilled that Alfred has brought him up. “You must know James very well, right?”

Alfred gives Mina a mechanical smile, trying not to groan audibly. 

Yes, he certainly knows James Grey - _perfect_ bloody James Grey, who everybody in Highbury is always harping on about. Alfred has known James since their school days - nowadays, he’s always off saving the planet or something like that, organising events and fundraisers for about a million charities. Last Alfred heard, James was in London helping various schools to raise awareness of social and environmental issues - probably trying to persuade all the kids to eat vegan and drink only kale smoothies. That is, when he’s not creating beautiful artworks that could be sold off for a small fortune, or writing and performing new songs with his little indie band. 

Everyone in Highbury is _always_ singing James Grey’s praises - even Edward seems to think he’s great, for god’s sake! And for some reason, everyone always seems to assume that Alfred should be best friends with James, because he’s just _so_ wonderful and he’s so kind and sweet, looking after his cantankerous aunt whenever he comes back to Highbury, and he went to school with Alfred and they’re the same age. It never seems to occur to anybody that maybe Alfred doesn’t particularly _want_ to be friends with James Grey. He’s always rather quiet and reserved whenever Alfred makes an effort to be friendly, to the point that he almost seems standoffish. He’s just fine with other people, though - he seems more than happy to chat to Edward, Alfred’s seen the two of them getting along like a house on fire whenever James briefly deigns to come back to Highbury for a visit. Edward has tried to suggest that perhaps Alfred should give James Grey a chance, reminding him that some people are just overwhelmed by loud and extroverted personalities like his - but Alfred calls bullshit on that. James Grey isn’t ‘overwhelmed’ by him. James Grey disapproves of him. He thinks he’s meddling and overbearing, he thinks Alfred only _talks_ about making people happy and making the world a better place instead of actually _doing_ anything. James just thinks he’s better than everyone else because of all his charity work, and everyone seems to have fallen for his ‘look-at-me-I’m-such-a-good-person’ shtick - everyone except for Alfred. And no, it’s _not_ because Alfred is jealous. Edward had actually suggested that one time, when Alfred was ranting about everyone _loving_ bloody _James_ so much - though the vicious death glare Alfred had shot Edward had quickly shut him up. Not to mention the way Alfred had silently fumed at him for the rest of the day and ‘accidentally’ put salt instead of sugar in his coffee. 

“Yes, I know James,” Alfred says to Mina reluctantly, pulling himself from his bitter reverie. 

“Isn’t he _wonderful_ ?” she gushes immediately, beaming at him and clearly completely oblivious to his disgruntled inner monologue. “He’s always been so good to me, he’s like an older brother! He helped me study so I could get the marks for my course, and he helped me find affordable accommodation near campus - all while he was busy helping take care of our aunt, and busy with his own work in London, of course! He’s actually on holiday at the moment, he’s in Cornwall with his good friend Ollie Campbell and Ollie’s girlfriend Anna Dixon - but he’s still got his laptop with him, of course, because he certainly doesn’t want to neglect his charity work too much! Actually, I’ve been spending a lot of time taking care of our aunt while James is away and he sent her a really long email update the other day, but she couldn’t find her glasses and so I had to read it to her, and James is having _wonderful_ adventures, he said that…”

Alfred fights the urge to sit down opposite her and bang his head against the table. He _really_ didn’t come over to Mina to hear about bloody James Grey - though apparently when you try to engage in conversation with her, you’ll be given endless updates about James’s life whether you asked for them or not. 

“Yes, James is great,” Alfred says loudly, cutting Mina off with another forced smile. She looks a little taken aback by his interruption. “But actually I was wondering if you could tell me a little bit about _you_ , Mina.”

“Me?” she looks at him blankly. “Oh...well, I’m studying to become a primary school teacher, I don’t know if Florence told you…?”

“She did, yes,” Alfred replies, “and that sounds lovely. And what do you like doing in your spare time, Mina? I imagine you go to London to visit James whenever you can?”

“Oh, no, actually,” Mina responds with a nervous little laugh. “I adore James, but I’m perfectly happy to wait for him to come and visit us here in Highbury, and I’m excited to get his email updates between visits and just follow his social media. James loves being in London, but it’s a bit big and intimidating for me. Too many people, too loud. I’m perfectly happy to stay here in Highbury looking after my aunt.”

“But won’t you be wanting to explore and have all sorts of adventures once you’re done studying?” Alfred asks, frowning.

“I like the quiet,” Mina replies with a shrug. “Highbury life suits me pretty well; give me a cup of tea, some coloured pencils and a sketchbook and I’ll be happy for hours.”

“That sounds thrilling,” Alfred answers with another polite smile. “What kind of thing do you sketch?” 

“Well, I love going birdwatching when I get a spare moment on the weekends - I take my sketchbook and I draw the birds! Here, let me show you…”

“Oh no, it’s fine, don’t worry about -” Alfred protests hastily, but Mina is already rummaging through her handbag and withdrawing her sketchbook. She opens it, beaming, and Alfred suppresses a sigh, firmly pasting a polite smile in place. 

“This one is a sparrow, they’re quite common - but over here I’ve drawn a beautiful starling I saw the other day, and over _here_ , I was lucky enough to see a blue tit! They’re really rare for this time of year! And then on _this_ page -”

“Here you are, Mina!” Florence interrupts her flow, coming up and placing a bowl down in front of her. _Thank god,_ Alfred thinks to himself. “One pumpkin, burnt butter and sage gnocchi.” 

“Thank you so much, Florence!” Mina exclaims, beaming at her as she puts her sketchbook aside. “That smells delicious!”

Noticing that Florence is showing every sign of wanting to sit down opposite Mina and chat, Alfred clears his throat hastily; both women look at him as though they’d already forgotten he was there. 

“Well, it was lovely to chat to you, Mina, but unfortunately I think it’s probably time for me and Florence here to get back to work, before our boss has our heads.” 

Mina’s face falls slightly, as does Florence’s. 

“Right, yes, of course,” Mina says, with a sad little smile. “It was lovely to meet you, Alfred.” 

“And the same to you,” he replies with another winning smile.

“I’ll see you around, Mina,” says Florence, smiling down at her as Alfred gently shepherds her towards the kitchen. 

“Well? What did you think?” Florence asks him enthusiastically, as soon as they’re out of Mina’s earshot. “Isn’t she lovely?”

Alfred hesitates. 

“She seems like a sweet girl.” 

“A sweet girl?” Florence repeats, looking at Alfred in surprise.

Alfred shrugs, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Mina can’t hear them at all before continuing. 

“Well, she’s certainly _very_ talkative about her cousin.”

“You mean James Grey?”

“Yes, him,” Alfred responds, grimacing slightly. “She doesn’t seem to have a whole lot to say about herself, though. Very sheltered, from what I could gather - not much ambition, no particular goals in life as far as I can tell. I thought she was a little bit naive, a bit...awkward and dull. But I’m glad that you’ve been enjoying getting to know her again; she certainly seems nice and sweet.” 

“...Oh.” Florence’s face has fallen completely. “I suppose she _is_ a bit sheltered. But -” 

“Look, Florence, how about we go and see how we can help Victoria out,” Alfred suggests. “Maybe we can discuss this some more later -”

“Alfred Paget!” 

A familiar voice calls across the cafe. Alfred whips around to see Emma Peel nee Portman standing in the doorway next to her new husband, freshly returned from their honeymoon and both looking rather more tanned than they had been the last time Alfred had seen them. 

“Aren’t you going to come and say hello to a new bride, Alfred?” Emma asks, grinning at him with amusement glinting in her eyes. “Or have you forgotten all the manners that those wonderful parents of yours taught you?” 

“Emma!” Alfred exclaims, walking over to hug her. “And Robert too” - shaking his hand - “how lovely to have the happy couple back with us! But I thought you two weren’t getting back until later tonight?” 

“Change of plans, we decided to get on an earlier flight and surprise you all,” Emma said with a grin. 

“And of course we knew you’d all be here at Hartfield,” Robert chortles. “Edward, you never move from that spot, do you?” 

“Welcome back, sir,” Edward says with a smile, getting up to shake his boss’s hand. “And Emma” - he stoops slightly to hug her - “how was the trip?”

“Well, budge up, you silly man, and we’ll tell you all about it,” Emma replies. 

“I’m guessing you both want your usual?” Alfred asks them. 

“You haven’t introduced me to the lovely young woman next to you, Alfred,” Emma reprimands him, and Alfred realises that Florence is still standing awkwardly at his shoulder, casting longing looks over at Mina in the corner. “Honestly, what _has_ happened to your manners while I’ve been away?” 

“Oh, right - Robert, Emma, this is my new friend and colleague Florence Kerr. Florence, this is my gorgeous family friend Emma, and her new husband Robert Peel, who also happens to be Edward’s boss. _I_ happen to be the one who introduced this wonderful couple to each other and as you’ve probably gathered by now, they literally just got back from their honeymoon. You know what,” he continues, turning back to the happy couple, “you don’t need _me_ to take your order for you, I’m sure Florence here can do it brilliantly. She’s a fast learner and she’s got a freakishly good memory; she doesn’t even need a notepad!” 

Florence flushes with pride at Alfred’s praise; as she takes their orders, Alfred makes himself comfortable next to Edward, settling in to hear about the honeymoon. This plan is quickly foiled, however, as Victoria walks over towards them, hands on her hips and a rather terrifying expression on her face. 

“I’m sorry, perhaps I’ve got the wrong end of the stick here,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm, “but Alfred, I was under the impression that I am actually employing you to _work_ in this cafe, as opposed to employing you to sit down and chit-chat with the customers. I let it slide before because you were talking to a _new_ customer and I know you’re excellent with the customer service - when you want to be, that is - but right now I would really rather you were helping me out, rather than having a coffee and sit-down.”

Alfred groans, as Emma sniggers slightly behind her hand. 

“It’s a slow day! We’re not _that_ busy!”

“I don’t care,” Victoria answers. “I want your help. Both of you. _Now.”_

Her voice is too dangerous for even Alfred to disobey, so he grimaces, clambering out of the chair next to Edward. 

“Save the best stories for me, Ems,” he instructs, kissing Emma quickly on the cheek before following Victoria behind the counter, towing Florence along with him.

“So? How was Italy, then?” Edward asks, grinning slightly. “Tell me everything.”

“Well, I can’t tell you _everything,_ apparently,” Emma responds, grinning back at him across the table. “I’ve got to save the very best stories for Alfred, remember?”

“Of course you do,” Edward answers, rolling his eyes. “Well, did you go on the gondolas? Did you find any pizza that was actually worth the exorbitant price?”

The newlyweds launch into stories of the honeymoon, casting each other smitten looks. Edward smiles to himself. Regardless of how significant a role Alfred had _actually_ played in bringing these two together, he’s glad they’re married now. It’s obvious how happy they make each other. 

“Alright, your turn, Edward,” Emma says finally. “What have we missed? Who’s this Florence Kerr that Alfred has picked up since we’ve been gone? He seems very fond of her.”

“Oh, she was born in Highbury, moved to Scotland with her family, and now she’s moved back here after fifteen years, to study law. She’s lovely. Quite shy and unsure of herself, though - apparently she had a bit of a rough time with her family in Scotland. Alfred adores her; he’s determined to make her his new ‘project.’” Edward rolls his eyes.

“‘Project’?” Emma laughs. “Uh oh. What does that mean?”

Edward sighs. 

“You know how Alfred is utterly convinced that he’s a fabulous matchmaker?”

“Yes,” Robert and Emma reply simultaneously. Edward cracks a small grin. 

“Well, he told me he’s determined to find Florence a partner who’ll make her happy and who’ll be ‘worthy of her.’ It’s part of his scheme to boost her confidence and set her on the ‘right path’. But I’m not sure he’s off to a particularly good start.”

“Oh? Why not?” Emma asks curiously. 

“Well, see that blonde girl over there?” 

He gestures subtly towards Mina, who is casting not-so-surreptitious looks at Florence over the top of her sketchbook. 

“Her name is Mina Coke - apparently she and Florence used to go to primary school together and they’ve only just reconnected. They ran into each other at uni. It’s obvious she came here looking for Florence, and they both seem pretty into each other. I haven’t ever seen Florence looking as happy and confident as she did talking to Mina Coke just now; I thought they seemed cute together, actually.” He glances over at Alfred, who seems to be determinedly trying to keep Florence busy, although her gaze keeps wandering over to Mina. “But it seems like Alfred has other ideas.” 

“Why? Does he have a problem with this Mina girl?” Emma asks. 

Edward shrugs. 

“I don’t think he even _knows_ Mina well enough to have a genuine problem with her. I think he’s mostly just annoyed that Florence has picked somebody without his help. He said he has no way to be sure that Mina is ‘good enough’ for her.” 

Edward sighs.

“I know that Alf is excited to have a new friend - or ‘project’, whatever - and Florence seems to adore him. But to tell you the truth, I’m not entirely convinced that this friendship is going to be particularly good for either of them, in the long run.”

“What? Why ever not?” Robert asks.

“Because Alfred has a tendency to get carried away, and sometimes he needs somebody to rein him in and bring him back to earth a bit. I can’t see Florence doing that; she seems to be taking everything he tells her as gospel at the moment. And as for her, I think she needs to learn to trust her own instincts more, be more confident in her own judgement. Not just let Alfred tell her what to do.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about it too much, Edward,” Emma tells him with a smile. “I’ve known that boy for a very long time - and yes, I know he can be stubborn and strong-willed, and sometimes he can get carried away with his own ideas. But at the end of the day, he’s a wonderful friend, with a kind heart, and he always has the best intentions.”

Edward softens a little. 

“I know that,” he replies, “of course I know that. I just meant -” 

“Even if he makes mistakes every now and then, I think Alfred will always have a good influence on the people around him. I don’t think there can be any harm in this new friendship of his, you know it makes him happy to try and match other people up and make _them_ happy. I mean, he’s clearly enjoying himself. Look at him, Edward. He’s _radiant_ right now.” 

She gestures in Alfred’s direction. Edward gives a small sigh. 

“Alfred _always_ looks radiant,” he mutters. “But that’s beside the point here.”

Emma grins a little as he blushes.

“Well, what _is_ the point you’re trying to make then, Edward?”

“It’s just that…” Edward pauses, searching for the right words. “Alfred is always so...so _sure_ of himself. He never thinks about consequences. I mean, there he is, convinced he knows what’s best for everyone, determined to match everyone else up, and all the while insisting that _he_ doesn’t need anybody himself. He thinks he can do everything alone.” 

Edward sighs, and when he speaks again it sounds to Emma as though he is talking more to himself than to them. 

“You know, just once, I’d like to see _Alfred_ in love, properly in love, and at least a _little_ doubtful about his feelings being returned. It might do him some good. To see how that feels, I mean.” 

Edward’s dark eyes grow soft and sad as he muses. Emma and Robert exchange a look. 

“How about we look through some of the photos from Italy?” Emma asks quickly, pulling her phone out of her handbag. 

Edward gives her a grateful smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're feeling like you kind of want to just shake Alfred a bit right now - you're not the only one XD  
> Unfortunately, he may have to get worse before he gets better - next chapter, another new arrival on the scene...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred is still none too keen about Florence's growing crush on Mina. But a new arrival on the scene might shake things up - not to mention, cause more than a little tension in the ranks...

Alfred huffs quietly to himself as he reorganises the display cabinet, glancing over at Florence and Mina animatedly chatting to each other on the other side of the cafe. 

“What?” Edward asks, perched on a high stool at the counter, scarcely even looking up from his laptop as he grins in amusement at Alfred’s obvious annoyance. 

“Why is she here  _ again _ ?” Alfred complains in an undertone, inclining his head in Mina’s direction.

Edward raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Because Hartfield is a good cafe and she likes the food here,” he responds. “Though not quite as much as she likes the service, from the looks of it,” he adds, glancing around at the women and turning back to Alfred with a slight smirk. 

Alfred narrows his eyes at him. Edward takes a sip of his coffee, looking back at Alfred over the rim of his cup, before returning to his typing, grin still firmly in place. 

Alfred had thought he’d made himself clear the other day when Florence had asked him for his opinion of Mina; she seems like a perfectly nice and friendly girl, but she’s also sheltered, naive and awkward. Kind of dull, actually, if he was to put it bluntly. Florence, on the other hand, is pretty, intelligent, talented and ambitious - if she makes the right choices, she could have a happy, successful,  _ fabulous  _ future ahead. 

He had  _ hoped  _ that after his less-than-enthusiastic reaction to Mina the other day, Florence might have taken the hint and moved on to someone bigger and better. But no, apparently bloody not, from the looks of things. 

Alfred sighs dramatically, hoping that Edward will react so that he can keep griping to him and persuade him that he’s  _ right  _ about this, dammit, but Edward just keeps typing steadfastly, giving barely any indication that he even heard him, other than his lips twitching slightly in amusement. 

If only Florence hadn’t jumped the gun so quickly instead of just  _ waiting  _ for Alfred to find her the perfect person, he grumbles to himself, taking out a cloth and wiping the counter as vigorously and viciously as though it had done him a great personal wrong. 

If only he had managed to find the  _ right  _ person for Florence, then none of this would be happening in the first place. 

The bell tinkles as a new customer enters and Alfred stops wiping the counter as he looks instinctively towards the door.

A tall brunette woman strides into the cafe, wearing a navy blue pantsuit and matching heels which make her legs seem to stretch on endlessly. She’s speaking on her phone as she enters, sweeping her long wavy dark hair to one side as she holds the phone up to her ear with a perfectly manicured hand. 

“Definitely, yes, it was a good result,” she says as she strides towards the counter. “I don’t think we could have asked for better, really. I’ll have to double check my availability - but sure, let’s pencil in the Perry case for Thursday afternoon. Yep. Alright, thanks, Tom - I’ll call you back.” 

Alfred grins to himself. Something tells him that here is a woman who is very much  _ not  _ Mina  _ bloody _ Coke. 

The new arrival jabs a red fingernail at her iPhone to hang up the call and then gives a dramatic sigh not unlike Alfred’s own a few minutes earlier, before dropping down into the chair next to Edward’s at the counter. 

“Strong black coffee, please,” she says brusquely, already rummaging through her handbag for her wallet as she speaks. “ _ Big  _ strong black coffee. Black coffee in a vat, if possible.” 

Edward looks rather taken aback by this newcomer loudly interrupting his work. Alfred, however, grins at her.

“Big morning, huh?”

The woman looks up quickly, as though startled by the sound of his voice. Her gaze sweeps over Alfred, quickly appraising him - evidently she hadn’t really registered him at all when she first spoke. After a beat of silence, she smiles at him brightly, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. 

“Oh, well, you know how it is,” she answers, “a client asks for help, you deliver. This case is a particularly convoluted one, but then, I like a challenge.” She smirks slightly. “I think we’re definitely getting there  _ \- finally  _ \- but it’s taken a few all nighters, for sure. It’s exhausting, but I suppose it’s all worth it for the end results. I play to win, after all.” 

Alfred’s grin widens.

“Are you a lawyer, then?” 

She laughs.

“How could you tell? Do I just seem vicious?” 

“Well, I think it was more the talking about clients and cases that clued me in,” Alfred responds, “but sure, if you like, let’s just say you’ve got a general aura of viciousness that’s got me quaking in my stylish yet affordable trainers over here.” 

The woman laughs again, with another casual flick of her flawless hair. 

“Pippa Elton,” she introduces herself, holding out her hand across the counter. 

“I’m Alfred Paget,” he replies, shaking her hand with a smile, “and this is my best friend and roommate Edward Drummond, sitting next to you. He basically lives here.” 

“Pleasure,” says Pippa, turning to Edward and shaking his hand very briefly. 

“And the same to you,” Edward answers, giving her a polite little smile, but Pippa has already turned back to Alfred, leaning in towards the counter slightly.

“So, Alfred,” she asks, “what’s a guy like you doing working in a place like this, hmm? What’s your story?” 

Alfred barely even registers her question; the cogs in his head are whirring like crazy. What are the odds that this beautiful, witty, sophisticated and ambitious woman would waltz into the cafe,  _ just  _ when he was worrying about Florence’s crush on Mina holding her back, and cursing the fact that he hadn’t found anybody suitable for her yet?  _ And  _ she’s a successful lawyer?! That’s already something substantial that Pippa and Florence have in common; far more than there is between Florence and  _ Mina _ , anyway. Alfred can just see it in his mind’s eye. Pippa and Florence, a year or two from now, striding side by side with their briefcases and their pantsuits in colours that perfectly complement each other, helping each other to win their cases and celebrating with a glass of wine and perhaps a makeout session on their sofa. Jetting off to various cities around the world as their renown grows and new career opportunities come their way. The ultimate power couple. And if he plays his cards right...he could start paving the way towards that future right here, right now.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, I’m an idiot,” he says to Pippa, flashing her his signature winning smile. “My boss texted me five minutes ago to tell me she urgently needed my help with something in the back - here’s me sitting here chatting, I completely forgot! She might murder me if I keep her waiting any longer - so do you mind if we hold that thought for a bit?”

“Oh, boo,” Pippa responds, pouting slightly.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be back soon - oh, right, and you need someone to sort out your vat of coffee for you as well, of course. Not to worry, I can leave you in  _ excellent  _ hands there - Florence!”

He calls across the cafe and Florence jumps slightly, having been deep in conversation with Mina. Lucky Victoria really  _ is  _ in the back right now, Alfred thinks to himself - or maybe she’s just going easy on Florence because she’s still relatively new.

“Did you need something, Alfred?” Florence asks, looking a little puzzled. 

“I have to go help Vic with something - if you’re not busy, could you please come and make a coffee for this lovely lady here?”

Pippa beams at him, tossing her hair slightly again. 

Florence flushes slightly, evidently embarrassed at being caught flirting instead of working. 

“Sure, right away,” she says, making an apologetic face to Mina before hurrying up to the counter.

“Pippa, this is my gorgeous friend and colleague Florence Kerr - not only does she make a phenomenal coffee, but coincidentally she’s training to become a lawyer herself!”

“Well, how about that,” Pippa responds, smiling at Florence. Florence blushes a little and Alfred tries to suppress a smirk; apparently, despite her infatuation with Mina, she’s not entirely immune to Pippa’s charms. 

“And Florence, this is Pippa Elton - she’s a lawyer, and apparently she’s having a pretty busy day already, so she’d kill for a  _ very  _ strong black coffee, preferably in a vat, if possible. I’m sure Pippa’s got plenty of tips and stories for you, Flo. Pippa” - he gives her a little mock bow - “I leave you in my gorgeous friend’s capable hands.”

Florence gives Alfred a slightly bewildered look - he grins and shoots her a quick wink. As he turns to go, he catches Edward’s eye; he’s silently frowning at him, as though he knows precisely what Alfred is up to. To be fair, he probably does. Making sure that Pippa isn’t looking at them, he sticks his tongue out at Edward and grimaces at him a little, trying to warn him not to ruin the fun. Edward lets out a tiny sigh, shrugging and turning back to his laptop, frown still firmly in place. 

Confident that Edward will keep his mouth shut whether he wants to or not, Alfred gives Florence another encouraging smile and hurries off to the back room. 

“Need any help?” he asks Victoria brightly.

She frowns at him.

“What are you up to?” she asks suspiciously.

“Hmm? Why should I be ‘up to’ anything?” Alfred asks innocently. “Can’t I just be offering you a hand?” 

Victoria gives a small snort. 

“Oh come on, Alf, I know for a fact that you loathe doing inventory stuff. You literally never do it unless I order you to, and even then you whinge and complain and ask if you can go serve customers.”

“Well, what can I say, I seem to have come over all enthusiastic and helpful today,” Alfred replies with a shrug.

Victoria huffs, looking unconvinced. 

“So, how can I be of assistance?”

She shrugs, evidently deciding she doesn’t care enough to question his motives any further.

“Well, I don’t have anything urgent for you to do back here, or I’d have asked. But since you’re offering, you may as well help me unpack this crate of pasta. It will only take a couple of minutes.”

“Sure thing!” Alfred responds brightly. Victoria narrows her eyes at him, but makes no further comment as the two of them set to work with the crate. 

Victoria wasn’t exaggerating, apparently; unpacking the pasta  _ does  _ take only a few minutes. Alfred tries to dawdle a little longer, looking for things to clean up or organise, but apparently Victoria has had enough of his shenanigans for the moment. 

“There isn’t enough to do here to warrant two of us, Alfred,” she says, shooing him. “If you’re so keen to be useful, then get back out there and serve customers. The Duchess might have arrived, and I don’t want Florence to have to handle her alone and end up in tears.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I think Florence is otherwise engaged at the moment,” he replies with a grin. 

She frowns at him and opens her mouth to ask him what he’s on about, but quickly closes it again and shakes her head, thinking better of it. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that  _ somebody’s  _ making themself useful instead of standing here annoying me. You might think about taking a leaf out of her book.” She shoves him gently. “Go.”

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” Alfred grumbles, hoping he’s not back so quickly that it looks suspicious. 

“So, do you know why he’s working here?” Pippa is asking Florence. 

“Oh, Alfred is doing the same as me, just earning some extra income while he studies,” Florence responds. “Only he’s a few years ahead of me, he’s studying his Masters - and he’s studying Ancient Literature, not law.” 

“I see,” Pippa responds, taking a dainty sip of coffee. “And how long has he been working here?”

“Oh, um...I don’t remember exactly,” Florence answers awkwardly. 

“Coming up for a year at the end of this month,” Edward supplies, glancing up from his laptop briefly. 

“Well, you sound pretty sure,” Pippa says with a little laugh. 

“Well, he would be sure,” Alfred pipes up, effortlessly rejoining the conversation as he slides back behind the counter. “Edward has basically been sitting in that same exact spot since the day I first started here. Our other customers are starting to think he’s part of the furniture.” 

Edward blushes slightly and pokes his tongue out at Alfred, as Pippa laughs and tosses her hair again, turning in her chair so that she’s facing Alfred properly. 

“How’s that  _ very  _ strong black coffee, by the way?” Alfred asks, nodding at the coffee cup in her hand. “Strong enough? Black enough? Vat-like enough?” 

“Oh, it’s  _ perfect _ ,” Pippa replies. “Just what I needed.”

“See, I told you Florence makes a phenomenal coffee,” Alfred says, grinning at her. “Not  _ just  _ a pretty face - though she’s certainly that as well, right?”

“Very pretty,” Pippa says approvingly, smiling at Florence. 

Florence beams and blushes scarlet. Alfred grins excitedly over at Edward, who looks stonily back at him. 

“Hey, um, Florence?” 

Alfred and Florence both turn - Mina is standing at the counter, fidgeting awkwardly and looking highly uncomfortable. 

“I think I’m gonna pay and head off now - but it was really lovely talking to you, as always.”

“Oh,” says Florence, looking surprised and disappointed. “You have to go right now?”

Mina shrugs.

“I thought I’d better check in on my aunt...you know how it is.”

Florence opens her mouth to respond, but Alfred quickly forestalls her. 

“How thoughtful of you, Mina. Lovely of you to pop in and visit us.”

Florence moves over to the card reader as Mina holds out her card, but Alfred deftly intercepts her, shoving a menu at her. 

“No no, I’ve got this - why don’t you see if Miss Elton could be tempted to stay for a bite, after that  _ perfect  _ coffee you made her?” 

Florence hesitates for a moment before taking the menu Alfred is proffering and turning back to Pippa. Alfred turns to Mina, smiling. 

“It was the vanilla spice latte and the apple cake, wasn’t it?” 

Mina pays and glances quickly at Florence before heading out the door at high speed. Noticing a brief lull in Pippa and Florence’s conversation as Florence gazes after Mina, Alfred sidles over to the two of them. 

“So, Pippa, have you decided if you want anything to eat?”

“The pomegranate and feta salad sounds delicious,” she responds, smiling at him brightly.

“An excellent choice,” he commends her, taking the menu back. “Hey Florence, did you tell Pippa what that gross sexist professor said to you about women lawyers?” 

“Ugh, what did he say?” Pippa asks Florence, grimacing. “I’ll never understand why they hire so many chauvinist assholes to teach law.”

“Well, he told me -” Florence begins, but Pippa quickly interrupts her. 

“You’re leaving  _ again _ ? Am I really  _ that  _ boring?” she says to Alfred in a teasing tone. 

“Well, somebody’s got to take your order to the kitchen,” he says, grinning at her. “I’ll be back before you know it; Flo will entertain you while I’m gone.”

“Hmm,” Pippa responds, tossing her dark waves indignantly. “Well, don’t be too long.”

* * *

“That Pippa Elton is certainly something, right?” Alfred enthuses to Florence as they sit in Alfred and Edward’s apartment a few days later, waiting for Edward to come back with the pizza he’s gone to collect. 

If Alfred hadn’t been sure about Pippa’s feelings for Florence before, he’s certainly pretty clear about them now, given that Pippa has returned to Hartfield Cafe every day for the past week. 

“Funny, smart, talented - not to mention a sight for sore eyes. I mean, if I swung that way, that is.” 

“She’s  _ really _ cool,” Florence agrees. “And apparently she only recently graduated from law school! I wish  _ I  _ could be that confident and self-possessed when I’m only just out of uni!”

“Florence, I keep telling you, don’t sell yourself short,” Alfred replies, poking her gently in the shoulder. “You’re wonderful - and certainly confident enough to attract Pippa’s attention, it seems.” 

“What?!” Florence asks, giggling slightly in disbelief. “What are you talking about? Pippa Elton wouldn’t be interested in  _ me _ …”

“I beg to differ,” Alfred argues. “Didn’t you hear her saying how pretty you are? Practically going into raptures about the perfect coffee you made her - not just great, _perfect_? She’s basically been taking every opportunity to gush about you, Florence, and she always seems _very_ keen to chat to you. Hell, I could swear she keeps looking sideways at you, even while she’s talking to me! She’s _so_ into you, Florence!”

“You...you really think so?” Florence asks, beaming and blushing scarlet.

“Of course I think so,” he replies, grinning, “otherwise I wouldn’t be saying it! But like I said, you need to learn to stop putting yourself down, Flo - Pippa may be fabulous, but she’d still be lucky to have you!”

Florence beams at him, blushing an even deeper shade of scarlet. 

Alfred opens his mouth to keep singing Pippa’s praises, but he’s interrupted by a loud buzzing sound from Florence’s phone as her screen lights up. 

“Is Edward running late with the pizza or something?” he asks, feeling suddenly mildly irritated as he wonders why on earth Edward would be texting Florence with updates instead of texting  _ him _ . 

“No, it’s Mina,” Florence replies, glancing down at her phone. 

“Mina?” Alfred echoes, frowning slightly. “What does she want?”

Florence gives a little gasp. 

“Oh my god!”

“What?” Alfred asks, immediately on edge. 

Florence looks up at him, surprise written across her face. 

“She’s...she asked me out, Alfred!”

“She  _ what _ ?” Alfred yelps. “Mina Coke just asked you out? Over  _ text _ ?!” 

“I...yes,” Florence answers, sounding utterly thrown, grinning slightly as she reads through the text again. “Apparently she was really nervous, so…”

Alfred grits his teeth a little. 

“Would you mind if I had a look?” he asks, trying hard not to sound as annoyed as he feels. 

“What?” Florence asks, still sounding somewhat stunned as she looks up from her phone again to see Alfred holding out his hand for it. “Oh - sure, you can go ahead and read through it if you like.”

“Thanks.”

Florence hands him the phone and scooches a little closer to him on the sofa so that she can reread Mina’s text again over his shoulder. 

_ Hi Florence! _

_ I just wanted to text you to say that it was really really lovely spending time with you in the cafe the other day - it’s made my day so much brighter every day that we’ve hung out recently.  _

_ Well...ok, no, I didn’t  _ just  _ want to text you to tell you that. I know we lost contact for a really long time, and I know we’ve only just started hanging out again - but the thing is, you make me smile and laugh more than I have done in a long time, and I feel more comfortable with you than I do with anybody else. You’re smart and kind and funny and really pretty and I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask you something, but I’ve just been so nervous about making things weird or awkward. I swear, I  _ nearly  _ worked up the courage to ask the other day, but then Alfred wanted you to help that new woman over at the counter and you got to talking with her and I started to second-guess myself and get butterflies in my stomach and I didn’t want to ramble and seem like an idiot and then Alfred was back and I thought maybe it would be even more awkward if I pulled you aside for a word at that point and...god, I’m rambling now, I’m so sorry! _

_ What I’m  _ trying  _ to say is - would you maybe like to grab a coffee together some time? Maybe even somewhere that  _ isn’t  _ Hartfield Cafe. Like a date, I mean, in case that wasn’t clear. It probably was clear. Sorry, I’m rambling again.  _

_ Anyway, to summarise - I really like you, Florence. I can’t wait to hear back from you. _

_ Love, _

_ Mina <3 <3 xxx _

_ P.S. I’m sorry if it’s really weird that I’m asking you out over text. Like I said, I was going to ask you in the cafe, but I just got so nervous - this really isn’t my forte. God, please let me know if this whole text doesn’t even make sense, because I can try and rephrase it and - sorry, I’ll just stop typing and hit send now before I put my foot in my mouth again. <3 <3 xxx _

“Well,” Alfred says, passing the phone back to Florence, “that’s very sweet of her.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Florence replies, still scarlet in the face as she takes it. “I just...well, I wasn’t expecting this at all.” She glances up at Alfred, looking almost scared. “What should I say?”

Alfred bites his lip.    
He supposes it’s a sweet text, in its own extremely clumsy and awkward way, and he can see why Florence would be excited and flattered by it. But Mina being infatuated and occasionally saying something cute does  _ not  _ make her a better match for Florence than Pippa would be. He’s sure Pippa is into Florence, he’s  _ sure  _ of it, and he  _ knows  _ the two of them could be an incredible power couple and bring out the best in each other, Pippa boosting Florence’s confidence, Florence perhaps softening some of Pippa’s sharp edges. What a waste it would be if, before Pippa had even had the chance to ask Florence out, Florence began dating Mina Coke, embarking on a relationship that would only hold her back! Mina’s awkwardness might seem cute and endearing now, but it would surely begin to grate on Florence’s nerves soon enough - not to mention that Mina would probably bore her rigid by going on and  _ on _ about her beloved cousin James Grey. When the surely inevitable breakup came, Florence would find herself feeling frustrated and completely aimless - and as for Pippa Elton, she might well have moved on by then! She couldn’t be expected to wait and pine over Florence for the rest of her life, after all. 

God, Florence  _ can’t  _ say yes to Mina - but as he opens his mouth to say so, Alfred realises that he can’t interfere directly like that. For one thing, Edward would  _ murder  _ him when he found out. And for another, it would probably backfire anyway; Florence might get upset with him if she thinks that he’s being too bossy or trying to dictate her life. And whatever happens, Alfred doesn’t want to lose Florence as a friend. 

He hesitates. 

“Well, what are you asking me for, Florence?” he asks carefully. “If Mina’s asked you out, then it’s your choice if you want to accept her or turn her down.”

“But I don’t know what to say…” Florence says, chewing on her lip as she glances down at her phone again. “It  _ is  _ a really sweet text…”

“It is quite sweet, that’s true,” Alfred responds, with an ambivalent little shrug. 

“But you were just saying that you think Pippa Elton might be into me as well…” Florence muses, her brow furrowing as she looks up at Alfred. 

“I didn’t say Pippa  _ might  _ be into you, I said she’s pretty clearly into you,” he says immediately. “But if you like Mina more, then I guess it doesn’t matter what Pippa thinks. Though you wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings, obviously.”

Florence is silent for a moment, looking from Mina’s text to Alfred and back again.    
“Do you think you have feelings for Pippa?” he prompts. 

“I...yes. Yes, I think so. I mean she’s so beautiful, and funny, and smart, and  _ accomplished _ ! But Mina…”

Florence bites her lip again, looking extremely anguished as she subsides into silence again, glancing back down at Mina’s text. 

“Like I said, I can’t make this decision  _ for _ you,” Alfred says gently. “But if you like, I  _ can _ give you some advice about what  _ I  _ would do, if I were in this position. Would that be helpful?”

“God, yes please,” Florence responds eagerly. “I would  _ love  _ some advice right now, Alfred!”

“Well, if  _ I  _ had just been asked out by Mina Coke - over text - but I knew that I had feelings for Pippa Elton and I was pretty certain that she had feelings for me too, I would have to consider my compatibility with both of those women before coming to any decision.” 

Florence frowns slightly.

“My compatibility?” 

“You’ve got to think about which of these women would be better for you, and which one would ultimately make you happier. For instance, if  _ I  _ had just received that text from Mina, I might think it was very sweet of her - but I might also look at the incredibly awkward way it was written and think that perhaps it reflected her personality. In fact, if I knew that I had feelings blossoming for another woman, a woman who was witty, outspoken and sophisticated, I might wonder if I really wanted to date somebody who was too scared to ask me out in person and resorted to awkwardly asking over text instead. I certainly think I would be wary about settling for somebody like that. Particularly if there was this beautiful and exciting other woman on the scene and I didn’t want to discourage her.” 

“That’s...that’s a good point,” Florence says, staring at him. “So you’re saying I should...I should turn her down?”

“Like I said, that’s up to you,” Alfred answers. “I’m just telling you what  _ I  _ would do, to help give you some perspective.” 

Florence inhales slowly, looking rather pale. She opens her mouth and then closes it again, looking at Alfred and then looking down at Mina’s text, chewing on her lip as she thinks. The silence seems endless, but Alfred forces himself not to break it, to wait for her. 

Finally, Florence swallows and nods. 

“I think...I think I should turn Mina down.” 

Alfred tries not to make his sigh of relief too audible. 

“Gently, of course,” Florence adds hastily.

“Of course!” Alfred agrees. 

“I just...well, like you said, I like Pippa as well, and if she likes me back...well, I wouldn’t want to start dating Mina and then regret it later. And it’s a sweet text - but you’re right, it  _ is  _ kind of weird that she asked me over text rather than just asking me out in person.”

“It  _ is  _ weird!” Alfred agrees, beaming at her. “I didn’t want to tell you what to do, because it’s your life and your decision - but now that you’ve decided for yourself, I can tell you that I absolutely think you’ve made the right call! I really do think Pippa Elton is  _ so _ into you - if you don’t mind me saying, I don’t think Mina would have been the right choice for you at all.”

“Oh god, but what do I say in my response?” Florence asks, looking pale and anxious again. “I don’t want to hurt her feelings or anything - how do I let her down easy, Alfred?”

“Oh, well,” Alfred says hesitantly, “that’s really up to you as well, Flo. I wouldn’t want to interfere…”

“But you’re so good at wording! Please, Alfred...if you could just guide me a little…”

“Well,” Alfred responds, “I suppose if you write the reply text, I could read over it and help you edit it...you know, just to make sure it sounds ok before you send it off.”

“Thank you,” Florence breathes, sounding immensely relieved. “Ok, ‘Dear Mina -”

“Hmm…” Alfred says immediately. 

Florence glances up at him, looking anxious already.

“What? Is that wrong?” 

“Don’t be silly, of course it’s not ‘wrong,’” he answers hastily. “It just sounds a bit formal, that’s all; I’d be trying to set a casual and strictly  _ friendly  _ tone from the get go. I’d say just ‘Hi, Mina’ would be fine…”

A couple of minutes of texting and backspacing later, with a bit - or more accurately, a  _ lot  _ \- of help from Alfred, Florence has finally typed out a response to Mina’s text. 

_ Hi Mina, _

_ Thank you for your lovely text.  _

_ I agree that it’s been really nice to reconnect and strike up our friendship again after such a long time. I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you too.  _

_ I was very flattered and surprised by your text - but to be honest, I’m really not looking for anything more than friendship from you at the moment. I hope you can understand that I’m not looking to date you, and I hope we can still be friends. Who knows, perhaps there’s somebody else who will be perfect for you, waiting just around the next corner! _

_ I understand if you need to take a bit of time - but I hope to see you at Hartfield Cafe again soon.  _

_ See you around, Mina - and thanks again for asking me. _

_ Florence :)  _

“Ok,” Florence says, sounding extremely anxious. “I’m sending it, I’m sending it, and…” She taps the send button and her iPhone makes a little whooshing sound. She lets out a long sigh. “And it’s sent.” She glances at Alfred fearfully. “God, I hope she’s not going to be mad at me…”

“Of course she won’t be mad at you!” Alfred replies indignantly. “She has no right to be mad at you - and if she is, then she  _ certainly  _ never deserved you in the first place! You did the right thing, Flo.” 

Florence smiles weakly, just as the door opens to reveal Edward carrying quite a substantial amount of pizza. 

“I hope you two are hungry,” Edward says with a smile.

“I’m  _ starving _ ,” Alfred answers promptly, jumping up to relieve him of the pizza boxes. “About time, too, I was wondering if you’d somehow managed to get lost!”

“You’re welcome, Alf,” Edward responds dryly. 

“Yes, yes, thank you for feeding us,” Alfred replies, rolling his eyes slightly as he grins at Edward. As always, Edward grins back at him despite his best efforts not to. 

Florence makes a small sound behind him, and Alfred whips round.

“What?”

Wordlessly, she shows him her phone screen, lit up with another text. 

_ Hi Florence, _

_ That’s alright; I totally understand. And yes, we can still be friends, for sure - I might just need a bit of a breather.  _

_ See you around, _

_ Mina.  _

“See? Told you she wouldn’t be angry!” Alfred says in an undertone, smiling encouragingly.

“Who’s angry?” Edward asks suspiciously. 

“What? Nobody’s angry, why would anybody be angry?” Alfred asks innocently.

Edward narrows his eyes at him slightly, but Alfred is already looking past him at the food.

“You said we didn’t need garlic bread as well!” he says delightedly.

“I gave in,” Edward sighs.

“Yes!! I  _ knew  _ I loved you!” Alfred replies, grinning widely. 

Edward blushes, rolling his eyes. 

To Alfred’s relief, there are no follow-up questions. 

* * *

  
  


Alfred has to admit he’s rather surprised to see Mina back at the cafe the very next day. Florence freezes, her face flushing scarlet the moment she catches sight of her.

Alfred struggles to suppress a groan.  _ Seriously?  _ Why is she back  _ again,  _ when Florence has  _ just  _ rejected her? Florence had been so tentative about letting Mina down, as though she wasn’t quite sure she was doing the right thing; seeing her again now might set Florence back and make her have second thoughts - particularly as Pippa, annoyingly, hasn’t turned up at the cafe yet to distract her. 

A closer glance at Mina, though, quickly persuades Alfred that she certainly isn’t here to flirt with Florence this time. She looks even more awkward than usual, if that’s possible, darting glances at Florence and looking quickly away again, shifting from foot to foot as though she would rather be anywhere else in the world but this cafe.

“Don’t worry, Flo, I’ve got this,” Alfred quickly tells her in an undertone, giving her what he hopes is a reassuring smile as he moves closer to the counter. “Why don’t you go and see if Vic needs any help?” 

He hears Florence breathe a little sigh of relief before dashing off to the back room to help Victoria. Mina, too, looks a tiny bit more relaxed on realising that Alfred will be serving her and she won’t have to interact with Florence. 

Edward, sitting at the counter as always, looks up from his laptop, frowning at Alfred slightly. Evidently, the tension hasn’t escaped his notice. 

“Lovely to see you, Mina,” Alfred says, smiling widely at her as she approaches the counter. “Can I get you a menu? Where would you like to sit today?” 

“Oh, no, um...thank you, Alfred, but I’m actually just getting a takeaway today,” Mina replies, still shifting from foot to foot. “I’m running an errand for my aunt; she’s not feeling very well and she insisted that she needed me to pick up chicken noodle soup from Hartfield Cafe and nowhere else. There wasn’t much I could say to change her mind; you know what she’s like.”

He does indeed; it can’t be a picnic, Alfred thinks, having the Duchess ordering you around every day of your life. 

“I’m sorry to hear your aunt isn’t feeling well,” Alfred says sympathetically, smiling at Mina, “but it’s good to hear our chicken soup is her first port of call when she’s feeling under the weather. I’m pretty sure it does have magical curative properties.”

He moves over to take a sealed tub of their famous chicken noodle soup out of the fridge. 

“Would you like me to heat it up for her?” he asks. 

“No, no, that’s fine, I’ll just pay and then heat it up for her at home,” Mina responds hastily. “I know you guys are probably really busy; I’ll get out of your hair.” 

“It’s no hassle at all,” Alfred protests. 

“No, really, I’m fine,” Mina says firmly. 

“Whatever you prefer, then,” Alfred answers, giving her an awkward little smile as he pushes the card reader towards her. 

“Thanks so much,” she says, tapping her card and hastily taking the tub of soup. 

“No problem at all,” Alfred replies, but Mina’s already hurrying off. 

She hesitates at the door for a moment, looking like she’s at war with herself, before turning back to Alfred.

“Alfred?” she says tentatively, quietly. 

“Yes, Mina?”

She hesitates for another moment.   
“Will you tell Florence...tell her I said hi?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Alfred replies, after an awkward pause.

Mina gives him a sad little smile. Then gloom seems to settle over her face again and she hurries out of the cafe, her shoulders slumped. 

Alfred can’t help but feel a little surge of guilt in his stomach as he watches her leave. He hadn’t really expected her to be quite so cut up about Florence. And she has no idea that  _ he  _ had anything to do with Florence’s reply…

No, he thinks, mentally shaking himself. He doesn’t want Mina to be upset, of course - but he shouldn’t be feeling guilty. He did the right thing by Florence. Mina wouldn’t have been right for her. He just helped her to see that. 

Edward closes his laptop, fixing his gaze on Alfred.

“Alfred?”

“Hmm?” Alfred responds, trying to sound as though he’s only vaguely listening. 

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” 

“What?” he asks innocently. “What are you talking about, Edward?” 

He has a feeling this isn’t going to be the easiest conversation, and he’d really rather not have it at all, if possible. 

“I’m talking about the fact that something has  _ obviously  _ gone down between Florence and Mina. Florence practically ran away as soon as she saw her, and Mina was clearly desperate to get out of here before she came back. So. What’s going on?”

“Oh,” Alfred says, stalling. “That.”

“Yes, that,” Edward replies. He sounds like he’s not in the mood for bullshit.

“Well, Mina asked Florence out over text,” Alfred answers, with a small shrug, “and Florence turned her down.”

“Florence turned her down?” Edward echoes, and Alfred nods. “But...but she seemed pretty smitten with Mina from where I was sitting…” 

Alfred shrugs again. 

“So Florence turned her down over text?” 

“Well, it made sense, given Mina asked her over text.”

“Yeah, but still, something seems off,” Edward muses. “It seems...I don’t know, uncharacteristically harsh of her.”

“It wasn’t harsh!” Alfred argues. “Florence let her down very gently - it was a friendly, polite, carefully worded text!”

“You certainly seem to know a lot about it,” Edward remarks. 

Alfred feels a little lurch of dread and anxiety in his stomach. He meets Edward’s eyes defiantly, trying not to let any guilt show on his face. 

Edward exhales slowly as he looks back at Alfred, realisation dawning on his face. 

“Of course,” he says. “ _ You  _ did this, Alfred.”

Alfred tries not to flinch at the sharp edge of anger in Edward’s voice. He  _ really  _ doesn’t like it when Edward is genuinely upset with him. 

“It was  _ her  _ decision,” he says defensively, glancing over his shoulder to check that Florence hasn’t returned from the back room yet. “I even told her that it was up to her, not me! I just...gave her a little bit of advice, that’s all.”

“Advice?” Edward repeats, his voice still sounding somehow harder than usual. “What kind of  _ advice _ did you give her, exactly?”

“Well, I...I told her I couldn’t tell her what to do, I could only say what  _ I  _ would do in her position. And I said that if Mina had asked  _ me  _ out over an awkward text, I would be concerned that she might not be brave and mature enough to handle an adult relationship, and I would be concerned that she might hold me back. And,” he shrugs, “I guess Florence saw my point.”

Edward’s jaw is clenched tightly, his eyes narrowing as Alfred speaks. 

“And it was Florence who wrote the rejection text? On her own terms?”

“Yes!” Edward raises one eyebrow disbelievingly. “Well...I mean, I helped her with the wording,” Alfred mutters. “But only when she asked me to!”

Edward gives a short, hollow laugh. 

“What?” Alfred demands, the knot of dread in his stomach tightening. 

“You are unbelievable, Alfred. Mina really likes Florence, she’s obviously hurting right now. And from what I could see, Florence was pretty keen on her too - until  _ you  _ managed to talk her out of it. You had absolutely no right to meddle like that - can’t you see it will only end up hurting them both?”

“ _ Meddle _ ?” Alfred echoes, stung. “I was not ‘meddling,’ Edward! I was just trying to help Florence make the right decision! I want what’s best for her!”

“ _ Do  _ you, though?” Edward asks sceptically. “Or were you just annoyed that she might have fallen for somebody without  _ your  _ permission?”

Alfred glares at him, trying to ignore the fresh surge of guilt and the tears beginning to sting his eyes. 

“That’s not fair, Edward.” 

“Isn’t it?” 

“ _ No _ ,” Alfred insists. “Florence is my friend, Edward, you  _ know  _ I want her to be happy! But I knew she’d be flattered by Mina’s text and she might not be thinking clearly, so I thought she could do with a second opinion before she did something reckless! Especially considering now there’s somebody else on the scene who’s interested in her-”

“Somebody else who’s interested in  _ her _ ?” Edward echoes incredulously.

“Yes, of course,” Alfred responds, wondering why that should be so surprising to Edward. Pippa was being fairly obvious, after all. “Anyway, Florence absolutely made the right choice in rejecting Mina. She was right not to settle. Just like I won’t settle.” 

“You won’t settle,” Edward echoes, his jaw tightening more than ever.

“Of course not,” Alfred answers. “You already know that.”

“I see,” Edward says. A strange expression flits across his face. “Alfred, if you always refuse to settle...doesn’t that mean you’ll always be alone?” 

Alfred stares at him.

“What? No, that’s not what I...I just meant…”

Without warning, Edward picks up his laptop and stands up, scraping his chair back as he swings his laptop bag over his shoulder. 

“Where are you going?” Alfred asks fearfully, wondering why he feels so panicked all of a sudden. 

“I’m going to go work somewhere else,” Edward responds shortly. “I need some space. But I imagine it shouldn’t make much difference to you whether I’m here or not, given you do everything alone anyway.” 

“Edward, no, wait - “

“I’ll see you later, Alfred.” 

And Edward turns and walks out of the cafe, leaving Alfred staring after him, a heavy weight settling in his stomach as he tries to blink back tears. 

“Victoria says she doesn’t need any more help, so she sent me back...Alfred, is everything okay?” 

Florence stops short as she notices the look on his face. 

“What?” he asks, forcing himself to smile. “Yeah, of course everything’s ok, why shouldn’t it be?”

Florence looks unconvinced as she scans his face, but she seems to realise he isn’t going to elaborate. Her face becomes anxious as she scans the quiet cafe for Mina. 

“Don’t worry, she’s gone,” Alfred tells her quietly. “She just popped in to grab a takeaway for her aunt.” Florence nods, looking a little forlorn, and Alfred hesitates for a moment. “She said to tell you she says hi.” 

“Oh,” Florence responds. Guilt flits across her face. “Well, that was nice of her.”

Alfred nods. Florence glances at the empty seat on the other side of the counter and looks back at Alfred with a puzzled expression. 

“Where’s Edward?” 

Alfred grabs a cloth, turning away from her so that she won’t see the guilt and worry in his face. 

“He decided he’d rather just work at home today.”

“Oh,” Florence says, sounding bewildered. Edward has never been missing from the cafe since she started here. 

A silence falls between them as Florence begins to reorganise the cabinet display. Glancing over at her, Alfred feels another surge of guilt; her face has fallen back into her sorrowful expression from before. Perhaps Edward was right, perhaps Florence  _ is  _ hurting...god, they _ both _ need a distraction.

Right on cue, the cafe door opens and Pippa Elton strides in, this time wearing a figure-hugging purple jumpsuit. 

She beams in Alfred and Florence’s direction; Florence immediately blushes scarlet as soon as she catches sight of her, and Alfred sighs in relief.  _ Thank god.  _

“Why the long faces?” Pippa asks. “Have I missed something?”

“We were just wondering when we’d be seeing you!” Alfred calls back, grinning at her. 

She beams at him, tossing her long wavy hair over her shoulder. 

“I would have been here sooner; bloody work meetings running over time.” 

She sinks down into Edward’s vacated seat and Alfred hands her a lunch menu. 

“So, how are we?” Pippa asks.  _ “You’re  _ looking very nice today, Alfred.” 

“I might say the same to you,” Alfred responds, and Pippa’s grin widens. “And how lovely is Florence looking today?” he adds hastily, seeing that Florence’s face is starting to sink back into gloom. 

“Yes, indeed, she’s looking beautiful,” says Pippa, and Florence flushes with happiness. “That dress is  _ gorgeous  _ on you, Florence.” 

“Thank you,” Florence murmurs, looking rather overwhelmed. 

Alfred grins. It seems Pippa was using the classic tactic of trying to cover her feelings for Florence by paying attention to Alfred; but it’s clear that as soon as Alfred starts talking about Florence, Pippa can’t help herself. 

“All of Flo’s clothes look great on her,” Alfred says, beaming at Florence. “I think it’s just because she’s naturally gorgeous, right?”

“It must be that,” Pippa agrees, smiling at Florence. 

Florence beams, flushing an even deeper scarlet. 

“You know, I swear Flo could have been a model,” Alfred muses. “Oh!” he exclaims, an exciting idea coming to him. “Florence, want to do a photoshoot after work, just for fun? We could make a display for your Instagram; I’m sure Pippa would be keen to see it.”

“You do photography as well?” Pippa asks. 

Alfred shrugs. 

“Well, you know...I’ve dabbled in it a bit.” 

“Is there anything you  _ can’t _ do?” Pippa asks, shaking her head slightly as she grins at Alfred. He tries not to look too pleased with himself. “And yes, I’d  _ love  _ to see your photography skills, Alfred. And I’m sure Florence will look very pretty.”

Alfred turns to Florence.

“What do you think, Flo?”

“It sounds fun to me,” she replies, beaming. 

Alfred grins, looking at the two women, both of them flushed with happiness. 

He loves bringing couples together and knowing they’re a perfect fit for each other; it just makes him so happy to know he’s making other people happy. It almost makes up for Edward being disappointed in him. 

Almost. 

* * *

  
  


Given that Edward doesn’t speak to him at all that evening while he’s taking photos of Florence at their apartment, and he keeps up the silent treatment until Alfred leaves for work, Alfred assumes this argument is going to last for a while. 

He’s very surprised, therefore - not to mention immensely relieved - when Edward turns up at the cafe around lunchtime, awkwardly unpacking his laptop and sitting down in his usual seat across the counter from Alfred. 

Sensing the delicate situation, Florence hastily wanders a little further away from them to clear a table. 

“I thought you were pissed off at me,” Alfred says quietly. 

“Well...I’m not thrilled, Alfred,” Edward responds. “I’m still not convinced that you did the right thing.”

“I know,” Alfred murmurs. 

“But I guess I realised that I overreacted, and I was being stupid and immature by sulking and refusing to talk to you,” Edward says with a small sigh. “I still think you’ve gone about this the wrong way, and you shouldn’t have meddled. But _ I  _ shouldn’t have been so harsh. I know that you  _ do  _ want the best for Florence, and that you don’t want to hurt anybody. I’m sorry, Alf.” 

Alfred breathes a small sigh of relief. If Edward is back to calling him ‘Alf,’ it means he’s definitely forgiven. 

“I’m sorry, too,” he responds. “I know I shouldn’t have interfered so much with Florence and Mina. I  _ never  _ meant to hurt either of them. And I shouldn’t have tried to hide it from you, either. But...I really do think that Florence and Pippa are falling for each other. And I think they could be  _ perfect  _ for each other. They just...might need a little nudge in the right direction, that’s all. Can you understand that’s all I’m trying to do?” 

He searches Edward’s face. His brow is furrowed as he looks doubtfully back at Alfred. “Can you just be careful that nobody else gets hurt, please?”

“Nobody is going to get hurt!” Alfred protests. “But yes, I’ll be careful.”

“When I tell you to be careful not to hurt anybody, you do know that I’m including  _ you  _ in that, right?” Edward asks, looking at him with concern. 

Alfred frowns at him, bemused. What is that supposed to mean? Why would  _ he  _ get hurt?

He opens his mouth to reply, but, before he can say anything, the bell on the door tinkles and he looks up to see Pippa Elton coming into the cafe, right on cue. 

“Afternoon, everyone,” she says as she strides up to the counter and takes a seat next to Edward. “Alfred,” she says, beaming at him. “Oh, hi, Edward,” she adds casually, as she notices him sitting next to her. 

“Good afternoon, Pippa,” Edward responds with a polite little smile. 

“Florence, look who it is,” Alfred calls. “Our new favourite customer!”

Florence comes hurrying over to them. 

“Hi, Pippa,” she says breathlessly. 

“Hello, Florence,” Pippa replies, smiling at her. 

Florence blushes scarlet immediately. 

“Let me just grab you a menu -” Alfred begins. 

“Oh no, I already know what I want,” she says blithely. “I’ll have another one of those phenomenal black coffees, just like the one Florence made me the other day, and a pumpkin and quinoa salad, please.” 

“Well,” Alfred says, with an impressed grin, “looks like you’re quite the regular already.”

“Oh, I just know what I like, Alfred Paget,” Pippa replies, tossing her dark waves with a slight smirk. 

“You up for the challenge of making Miss Elton here another  _ phenomenal  _ coffee, Flo?” 

“I’ll do my best!” she replies.

“Thank you, Florence,” Pippa says, shooting her a smile, causing Florence to blush yet again. 

“I’ll just take your order to the kitchen, I won’t be a minute,” Alfred says.

When he returns a few moments later, Florence is deeply absorbed in making the coffee. Pippa leans in towards him over the counter, resting her cheek on her hand, the neckline of her blouse gaping open slightly. 

“So, where are these photos of Florence that I was promised, Mr Paget?” 

“Oh, we had a great time doing that shoot! Hang on, let me just pull the photos up on my phone, they’re on Florence’s Instagram…” 

He darts a nervous glance behind him.

“Warn me if you see my boss coming out of the back room behind me, won’t you?” he mutters to Pippa in an undertone. “She might kill me for looking at Insta with customers.”

Pippa laughs. 

“Ah, but I’m sure she knows that I’m a very  _ special  _ customer.” 

“That you are,” Alfred agrees with a grin. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Edward shift slightly in his seat, frowning at his laptop - but he doesn’t look up. 

He brings up the photos on Florence’s Instagram and passes the phone to Pippa as Florence finishes making the coffee. 

“Oh wow, these are  _ gorgeous _ !” Pippa exclaims.

“Right? Doesn’t she look beautiful?”

“She does....but just look at that lighting and that angle! That filter is absolutely perfect... and that one too... _ and  _ that one...you’ve managed to make this girl look even prettier in these photos! This photography is just stunning, it’s like artwork!!”

Alfred grins as she hands his iPhone back to him. 

“Are you  _ sure  _ you’re not a professional photographer, Alfred?”

Alfred chuckles slightly.

“They’re not  _ that  _ wonderful, Pippa. But thank you.”

“Well, they look pretty wonderful to me. You’ve somehow made Florence look absolutely  _ beautiful  _ \- maybe you can take some photos of me someday?” 

“Well...yeah, maybe,” Alfred replies. “I could even take some photos of the two of you together, if you like - then the photos would be  _ twice _ as beautiful!”

“What do you say, Florence?” Pippa asks, turning to her with a grin. “Shall we set a date for a photoshoot with the one and only Alfred Paget?” 

As soon as Pippa has paid and hurried away, grumbling about work meetings cutting into her precious time at the cafe and promising to return as soon as she can, and Florence has hurried out of earshot to help another customer, Alfred turns to Edward. 

“Well, do you see now? I was right - Pippa is obviously crazy about her!”

“Hmm,” Edward responds, pulling a doubtful face. “If you say so.”

“What do you mean, ‘if I say so?’” Alfred demands. “It’s right there! It’s obvious! She called Florence beautiful like, five times!”

“After you prompted her.”

“And so?” Alfred huffs. “Sometimes people just need a little nudge before they can admit to their feelings! Robert was exactly the same with Emma to start with - and now look at them, they’re married!!”

“I don’t know...it just seems to me that Florence isn’t the kind of person that Pippa would be looking for, in terms of romance. I’m not sure she’s really her type.” 

Alfred sighs. 

“Why would Florence not be her type? Florence is wonderful!”

“I know she is,” Edward replies. “I’m just not convinced that  _ Pippa  _ knows that.”

“You’re  _ still  _ not convinced? _ Seriously _ ?”

Edward shrugs, taking a sip of coffee. 

Alfred sighs again, trying not to get frustrated at Edward. He doesn’t want to get into another argument; but at the same time, Pippa’s intentions are  _ so  _ obvious, he just can’t understand how Edward can’t see it. He doesn’t know how to make it any clearer. 

“Edward. Pippa is into Florence. Trust me on this. I mean, there isn’t any other reasonable explanation if you think about it. Even if you put aside the flirting, and the compliments, and frequently calling Florence beautiful. Why else would Pippa, a woman with an extremely busy schedule, keep coming back to the same cafe  _ every single day _ ?” 

Edward looks at him, opens his mouth and closes it again. Shaking his head slightly, he looks back down at his laptop.

_ Translation: I’m right _ , Alfred thinks triumphantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry...reality might be hitting Alfred in the face soon... XD


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred is very excited about what might happen between Florence and Pippa at the Christmas party that he and Edward are hosting. Unfortunately, it soon starts to look like things aren't quite going as planned...

“You mean it?” Florence whispers to Alfred excitedly. “You’re going to invite Pippa Elton to your Christmas party? For...for me?” 

“Well, I don’t see why not,” Alfred replies, grinning back at her. “That is, if Edward doesn’t mind, of course, and I don’t see why he would. You _don’t_ mind, do you?” 

He turns to Edward, who is sitting in his usual spot at the counter with his laptop and coffee, giving him his best puppy eyes. 

Edward sighs slightly. 

“It’s your apartment, too, Alf, you can invite whoever you like. Just...remember what I told you, please.” 

“Which bit?” Alfred asks in a would-be nonchalant voice, hoping that Edward isn’t about to bring up their argument in front of Florence. 

“The bit where I told you to _be careful_ ,” Edward answers pointedly. 

“I am being careful,” he responds, with a bemused frown. “But what on earth has that got to do with inviting guests to our Christmas party?” 

Edward gives another small sigh and opens his mouth to reply - but before he can say anything, he is interrupted by the bell on the cafe door tinkling, signalling Pippa’s arrival. 

“Pippa!” Alfred greets her enthusiastically, beaming. He shoots a quick, triumphant little grin in Edward’s direction. Edward shakes his head a little, returning to his laptop. 

“Hello, hello!” Pippa calls as she walks across to the counter, looking gorgeous as ever in a jewel-toned playsuit. 

“Do you want to ask her?” Alfred mutters to Florence out of the corner of his mouth. 

Florence glances back at him with a terrified expression on her face. 

“You don’t have to doubt yourself so much, Flo, I’ve told you,” Alfred murmurs in a reassuring undertone. “But it’s okay, don’t worry, I’m happy to ask her on your behalf.” 

Florence breathes a little sigh of relief just as Pippa reaches them, sitting herself down in the seat next to Edward as usual. 

“Merry Christmas, Alfred,” she says, beaming at him. “And Merry Christmas to Florence and Edward as well, of course,” she adds, turning to smile at the two of them. 

“Merry Christmas to you too, Pippa,” Alfred answers with a grin. 

“What’s the most festive drink you can give me?” she asks. 

“Cinnamon spice latte?” 

She wrinkles her nose slightly.

“Hmm, sounds a bit sweet for me...but what the hell, it’s Christmas, let’s give it a try!”

“Want to do the honours, Flo?” Alfred asks. 

“I’m sure it will be absolutely delicious if Florence makes it for me,” Pippa says, smiling at her. Florence flushes with pride, beaming back at her, and Alfred shoots an excited grin at Edward across the counter. 

“Of _course_ it will,” Alfred agrees. 

“God, the Christmas break can’t come soon enough this year,” Pippa sighs, unwinding her scarf as she speaks and draping it over the back of her chair. “Sometimes I feel like my boss is determined to make me drop dead of exhaustion.” 

“Speaking of Christmas, Pippa,” Alfred says, smiling at her as Florence hovers within earshot, fiddling with the coffee machine, “Edward and I are going to be hosting a little Christmas drinks party at our apartment on the weekend - I was just wondering whether you’d be interested in coming along?”

Pippa stares at him. 

“You’re asking me to your Christmas party?” 

“I am indeed,” Alfred responds, grinning at the look on your face. “I’d love to have you there. We _all_ would,” he adds, glancing over at Florence with a significant grin.

Pippa beams at him, flushing slightly. 

“I would _love_ to spend Christmas with you, Alfred!”

“Fabulous!” he says, beaming back at her. “It will be a great time, you’ll see - not only will you get to spend time with me and Edward and _Florence_ ,” he emphasises her name slightly, “but my childhood friend Cecilia, who’s practically my sister at this point, is coming up from London with Edward’s sister Charlotte so they can spend Christmas here in Highbury with us! So you’ll get to meet them both as well! It will be a fabulous evening, and you’ll be a big hit, I’m sure; they’ll love you.”

Pippa beams at him. 

“I can’t wait!”

Edward opens his mouth to say something; but he hesitates, looking at Alfred and Pippa beaming at each other, before closing his mouth again and returning to his laptop. 

* * *

“Stop it, Char!!” Edward exclaims.

“What?” Charlotte Drummond protests, dancing out of reach with the biscuit mixture she’s just swiped from the kitchen counter where her older brother is baking. “It’s yummy!” 

Edward rolls his eyes.

“Can’t you just wait until it’s ready? I’m trying to bake here, Charlotte, you’re being annoying!” 

“Lovely to see you too, brother dearest,” Charlotte responds sardonically. “It’s not my fault that your biscuit mixture is delicious. It’s a compliment. Don’t bake in front of me if it bothers you so!” 

Edward heaves a deep sigh, shaking his head slightly as he turns back to his biscuits. 

Alfred grins across at his oldest friend, Cecilia Wyndham, as they sit drinking tea together at the little kitchen table. They both know Edward isn’t as annoyed at Charlotte as he’d like her to believe; in fact, she’s the only member of his family he’s still in contact with, and vice versa, ever since the two of them had decided to cut ties with their homophobic parents. 

Charlotte and Cecilia had met through Edward and Alfred years ago and they’ve been dating basically ever since. They’ve been working and living together in London for a while now and it’s pretty rare that they both get time off to come and visit Alfred and Edward at the same time. Alfred, for one, is very glad to have Cecilia staying over for Christmas, and he knows that Edward feels exactly the same way about Charlotte, no matter how much the two of them whinge at each other. 

“So how is good old James Grey doing? Any news? Do you know if he’s coming back to Highbury for Christmas as well?”

Alfred shoots Cecilia a dark look, and she smirks slightly back at him. She _knows_ full well that he’s not James’s biggest fan - she’s evidently trying to annoy him. And it’s working, too. 

“No, James isn’t coming back for Christmas, as far as I know,” Alfred says shortly. “And he was doing fine, last I heard. Enjoying his work in London. Enjoying it so much that he took his laptop on holiday with him to make sure he could keep working and wouldn’t miss any work emails. And he’s been keeping his aunt and cousin up to date, apparently.” 

“His cousin?” Cecilia asks, frowning slightly. 

“Her name’s Mina Coke,” Alfred explains. “Remember I was telling you about my new friend and colleague Florence Kerr? She used to live here when she was little and she’s moved back?”

“Yeah - what’s she got to do with James Grey’s cousin?”

“Well, Florence went to school with James’s cousin Mina when they were little - they got back into contact when Florence moved back here, and Mina developed a massive crush on her. She kept coming into Hartfield trying to spend more time with Flo, just like Pippa Elton does now. Mina’s quite nice, though _very_ awkward - and she does tend to go on about James a lot, she _adores_ him. But she hasn’t really been coming to the cafe much recently. Not since she texted Florence to ask her out and Florence, um...turned her down.” 

Tensing slightly at the memory of Edward’s anger and disappointment in him on that occasion, he chances a glance across at him. Thankfully, Edward still seems to be absorbed in baking and bickering with Charlotte. 

Charlotte, though, has evidently been half-listening to their conversation at least, because she turns to Alfred with a small smirk.

“And what about the famous Will Peel?” she asks innocently. “Did he ever show at his dad’s wedding?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Alfred sees the muscle in Edward’s jaw tighten slightly at the mention of Will. Glancing over at her brother, Charlotte’s smirk widens. Apparently the fact that Will Peel is far from Edward’s favourite topic of discussion hasn’t escaped her notice. 

“Sadly, no, Will couldn’t make it to the wedding because of work,” Alfred says in answer to her question, pouting slightly. “That was the only downside of the evening - we were all really looking forward to seeing him, and then he couldn’t come!” 

Over at the kitchen counter, Edward gives a slight huff. 

“ _We_ were not all looking forward to seeing Will Peel,” he protests, rolling his eyes a little. “It made no odds to me whether he was there or not.” 

“Well, _somebody_ clearly doesn’t like him very much,” Cecilia says in a sing-song voice, sharing a conspiratorial grin with her girlfriend. 

“Even though they’ve never even _met_ him,” Charlotte adds, smirking at Alfred for some reason. 

“I don’t _dis_ like Will Peel,” Edward says defensively. “I don’t know enough about him to care one way or the other, really.” 

Charlotte snorts disbelievingly. 

“I don’t! I just think it was pretty rude of him not to even bother showing up to his own father’s wedding, that’s all!”

“Well, he sent a very thoughtful apology email,” Alfred counters. “And Emma told me he sent the most gorgeous wedding present as well - a beautiful handcrafted spice box that he found on his travels in India!”

“What, just to emphasise that he was having fun on holiday instead of bothering to come home for his dad’s wedding?”

“It was a _work_ trip, Edward!”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Cecilia says hastily, as Edward opens his mouth to argue back. “Tell me more about this Pippa Elton, Alf. What’s she like?”

Alfred is quickly distracted from bickering about Will Peel as he gladly launches into an explanation of Pippa’s growing crush on Florence, and how excited he is to see what might unfold between them at the Christmas party. 

“And if you’re not going to let me eat the biscuit mix, Edward, at least fetch me some more tea,” Charlotte commands her brother. 

Edward sighs. 

* * *

  
  


“Edward, your collar’s inside out.”

“Hmm?” Edward asks absentmindedly, looking down at Alfred momentarily as he drapes another string of fairy lights near the top of their Christmas tree, where Alfred can’t reach. 

“I said your collar’s inside out,” Alfred repeats.

“Oh,” Edward says unconcernedly, already fixing his attention back on the lights. “Well, does it really matter?” 

“Of course it matters!” Alfred replies indignantly, as Charlotte sniggers. “We are hosting this party and our guests are about to start arriving - you can’t possibly greet people with your collar inside out! Come here and let me fix it, now.” 

Edward gives a small sigh, but he obeys, bending down slightly so that Alfred can fix his errant collar, blushing a little as Alfred’s fingertips brush the nape of his neck. 

“Are you trying to micromanage me because you’re nervous, Alf?” 

“I am not trying to _micromanage_ you,” Alfred responds crossly. “And why on earth should I be nervous?” 

“Didn’t Florence have to leave work early yesterday because she wasn’t feeling well?” 

“And so?” Alfred asks, hoping the uneasy feeling in his stomach isn’t too obvious in his voice. 

“Are you sure she’s going to be feeling up to coming this evening?” 

“It was _yesterday_ that she was feeling a bit under the weather, Edward,” Alfred says insistently. “She’s had plenty of time to rest and recuperate since then, I’m sure she’s feeling perfectly fine now. Besides, Florence wouldn’t want to miss spending the evening with Pippa, she’s not going to let a little sniffle get in her way!”

“If you say so,” Edward replies, looking doubtful. 

“I do say so.” 

At that moment, his phone buzzes, lighting up with a new text. Glancing down to read it, Alfred feels his heart sink. 

“ _Shit_.” 

“What?” Edward asks immediately. 

Alfred hesitates; but before he can say anything, Cecilia appears as if from nowhere and deftly swipes his phone from him. 

“Cec!” Alfred protests furiously. “Give that back!”

Ignoring him completely, she reads Florence’s text aloud. 

_Hey Alfred,_

_I’m really sorry, but I’ve just visited Doctor Perry, and apparently I have the flu, so I’m down for the count at the moment. The doctor said I need to rest, and that I shouldn’t be exposing myself to other people at the moment - so definitely no parties :(_

_I’m so sorry about this, you know I was really excited about your Christmas party tonight! Well, Merry Christmas to you and Edward anyway - I hope you have a wonderful evening. And please say hi to Pippa for me as well; tell her I’ll be thinking of her!_

_See you soon (I hope!),_

_Flo <3 xx _

“Oh,” says Edward, as Cecilia tosses her best friend’s phone back to him. 

Alfred grits his teeth slightly, waiting for the ‘I told you so.’ 

“I’m sorry, Alf,” Edward says instead. “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“Yeah, well…” Alfred sighs moodily. “Hang on, I should probably call her…”

Florence picks up after the first ring.

“Hi, Alfred.” Her voice sounds hoarse and croaky.

“Hi, Flo - I got your text,” he responds. “I’m sorry to hear you’re not feeling well - rest up, okay?”

“I will,” she replies. “Alfred” - she pauses for a small coughing fit - “I’m really sorry that I can’t make it tonight -”

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells her firmly. 

“But Pippa -” 

“I’ll let her know that you’re not feeling well,” he says. “She probably won’t even want to come once she knows that you won’t be here; in fact, she might even swing by to check on you, Flo. I’m sure she’ll want to cheer you up.” 

“Oh...but Doctor Perry said…”

“I’m sure she’ll know not to get too close,” Alfred reassures her. “But she’ll want to see you at least for a few moments - I mean, it is Christmas, after all!”

Florence hesitates. 

“Well...if it won’t be any trouble for her…”

“I’m sure it won’t,” he says firmly. “I’ll let her know to swing by your place, okay?”

“Okay,” Florence agrees croakily. “Merry Christmas, Alfred.”

“Merry Christmas, Flo. Feel better soon!” 

“Thank you,” she says faintly, and Alfred hangs up. 

He looks up to see Edward staring at him with a concerned expression, chewing on his lower lip slightly. 

“What?” Alfred asks him defensively. 

“It’s just...it kind of sounded like you were promising Florence that Pippa will visit her.”

“So?” he asks impatiently. 

“Well....how do you know she’ll want to?” 

“Of course she’ll want to! There’s no point at all in Pippa coming here tonight if Florence is home in bed, she’ll probably make her excuses as soon as I tell her, and then go straight round to Florence’s to deliver her present and cheer her up. Who knows, she might still end up officially asking her out tonight! Let me just shoot Pippa a quick text to let her know the bad news....”

Alfred types the message quickly on his iPhone. 

_Hi Pippa,_

_I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news on Christmas - but it turns out Florence won’t be able to make it to the party tonight - she’s come down with the flu :(_

_Alfred_

His phone makes a whooshing sound as he sends the text off. He looks up at Edward.

“And now I suppose we just wait for Pippa to make an excuse not to come.” 

“Alfred -”, Edward begins, but he’s interrupted by another buzzing sound as Alfred’s screen lights up with another text. Alfred looks down to see that it’s from Pippa. 

“God, that was quick…”

He scans it quickly.

 _“What?_ ” 

“What did she say?” Edward asks. 

This time it’s Charlotte who reads the text aloud over Alfred’s shoulder before he can respond.

 _Aww poor thing, that’s rotten luck, and at Christmas of all times! But it’s probably best that Florence isn’t coming along to the party if she’s come down with the flu - it’s really contagious. I hope_ you _haven’t been getting too close to her recently, Alfred - you’re not feeling under the weather at all, are you? I’m happy to come round to your place a bit early and make you a hot chocolate or a honey and lemon or something? I wouldn’t want you exerting yourself too much if you’re not feeling your best!_

_Love,_

_Pippa <3 <3 <3 xxx _

“Well, this Pippa certainly sounds very thoughtful,” Charlotte announces as she finishes reading the text aloud, smirking slightly in Cecilia’s direction. 

“What the hell is she talking about?” Alfred demands, baffled. “Why would _I_ need to be taken care of? I’m fine!” 

“Well, let’s think…” Cecilia says with a grin, but Alfred ignores her. 

“Hang on, I’ll send her another text…”

_Hey Pippa,_

_Thank you for the offer, but I’m feeling perfectly fine, there’s really no need for you to head over here early. In fact, I know how disappointed you must be to miss Florence this evening, so I promise I won’t be offended if you wanted to skip out on the party and check in on her! She’s really bummed out about missing this evening, but I know it would cheer her up massively if she could see you!_

_Merry Christmas,_

_Alfred_

“Okay, I’ve let her know that she doesn’t need to feel obligated to come, and I’ve encouraged her to check in on Flo,” Alfred announces to the others, as he presses send. “So hopefully she won’t feel too awkward about bailing on us now…”

Barely a few moments later, his phone lights up with another reply from Pippa. 

“What the _hell_?” he yelps as he reads it. 

“What _now_?” Edward asks.

This time, Alfred sighs, holding on to his phone tightly so that neither Charlotte nor Cecilia can steal it, and reluctantly reads Pippa’s text aloud himself. 

_Don’t be so silly, Alfred, of course I’m not going to skip out on spending the evening with you - I can’t wait! And try not to let worrying about Florence spoil your evening, I’m sure she’ll be right as rain in no time._

_See you soon ;)_

_Love,_

_Pippa <3 <3 <3 xxx _

He stares at Edward, utterly bewildered. Edward looks back at him, hesitating as though there’s something he’s trying to refrain from saying. 

Alfred sighs, looking down at his phone screen again.

What the hell is going _on_ right now? 

* * *

It’s safe to say that this whole Christmas party is definitely not going according to plan. 

It’s bad enough that Florence can’t make it; but Alfred certainly hadn’t been counting on Pippa Elton not only passing up the opportunity to go and check on her, but arriving earlier than any of the other guests in a scarlet dress with a neckline plunging almost to her waist, immediately swooping in to kiss him on the cheek, and handing him a beautifully wrapped present. When he’d opened it at her excited urging, it had turned out to be a ridiculously expensive bottle of cologne. As he stammered out awkward thanks for the gift, Pippa had casually plonked a cheap and crappy-looking smiley face mug down on the kitchen table, a tatty ribbon haphazardly tied around it. 

“I got this for Florence as well, I thought she might like it because it’s smiley, like her,” she had announced offhandedly. “Well, I suppose she’s probably not quite as smiley as usual at the moment, if she’s not feeling well.”

“She told me to say hi to you for her!” Alfred had replied, grasping eagerly at the topic of Florence. “She said she’ll be thinking of you.”

“Oh,” Pippa had responded, sounding a little taken aback. “Well, that’s sweet of her. I’m sure she’ll be glad when you pass that mug on to her at work, then. It was very considerate of her to put other people’s needs before hers and stay home tonight. I really hope she hasn’t been too close to you recently - are you sure you’re feeling okay? You don’t need a hot drink or anything?” 

“No, I told you, I feel absolutely fine, thanks -”

“Well, let me get you a refill at least, then,” she’d said firmly, beaming at him and deftly plucking his wineglass out of his hand before he could protest. 

Alfred can’t understand it for the life of him, but Pippa seems only to have been getting worse and more overbearing ever since her arrival. She seems to be everywhere he turns, plying him with food and drinks, brushing her arm up against his, leaning in to try and whisper things to him as though the two of them suddenly have intimate secrets and inside jokes. 

She really is being weird and uncharacteristically annoying tonight. Maybe it’s just that she’s had quite a bit to drink, Alfred reasons - but still, he hadn’t really appreciated her sidling up to him while he and Edward were busy chatting to Robert and Emma, invading his personal space, pressing another drink into his hand when he hadn’t asked for one and laughing gleefully at his comments when he wasn’t even particularly trying to be funny. And he’d _finally_ been about to hear an update on Will Peel, as well, before Emma had politely switched track when Pippa joined the conversation to ask her about herself!

He’s been looking forward to this evening for _ages_ , not least because he’d envisioned it as a perfect opportunity for Florence and Pippa. But how is he supposed to enjoy himself when Florence isn’t even here and Pippa, for some reason best known to herself, can’t seem to leave him alone for two seconds? What is _up_ with her tonight?!

“Is there a reason you appear to be hiding here in the corner at your own party, Alfred?” asks an amused voice. He turns to see Charlotte Drummond grinning at him. “Anyone in particular you might be hiding from? Perhaps a tall, dark, curvy, frankly _gorgeous_ woman who’s wearing a red dress that appears to leave very little to the imagination?” 

“I don’t understand what Pippa is playing at!” Alfred hisses. “Is she just drunk, or something? She keeps following me everywhere! And what about poor Flo, huh? Florence is lying at home in bed with the flu, feeling crappy and wishing she could be with Pippa - they were supposed to be having their first kiss tonight, Char, but Pippa hasn’t even asked about Flo once since she got here! And what the hell was that ‘present’ she brought for her? That’s cheap crap! This isn’t like the Pippa I know at all - she’s going to need to make a lot more effort than this to convince Florence that she’s in love with her!”

“In love with _Florence_?” Charlotte echoes incredulously.

“ _Yes_!” Alfred insists. 

“Alfred...honey...I really don’t think it’s _Florence_ that that woman is interested in,” Charlotte tells him. 

Alfred stares at her. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Charlotte raises one eyebrow as she stares at him pointedly, looking remarkably like her older brother. 

“Wha -” 

Glancing over her shoulder, Alfred sees Pippa beaming as she catches sight of him, moving purposefully towards him with yet another drink in her hand. 

“Crap, I’ve gotta go - can you make an excuse for me, Char?” 

Without waiting to hear her answer, he ducks away, practically running out of the crowded living room. 

When he reaches the quiet privacy of his bedroom, Alfred sighs in relief, closing the door behind him and leaning against it for a moment. He just needs to take some time for himself. And figure out why the hell this entire evening feels so _off._

He tenses as there’s a knock on the door.

“Sorry, not now!” he calls, praying that Pippa will take the hint. 

“Alf?” comes Edward’s voice quietly from outside. “It’s only me. Can I come in?” 

Feeling the tension in his stomach dissipate slightly at the sound of Edward’s voice, Alfred opens the bedroom door quickly and gestures for him to come inside. 

“What’s going on?” Edward asks gently, as Alfred walks over to his double bed and sinks shakily down onto it. 

“I’m just...not having the best evening,” Alfred responds, twisting his hands together in his lap. 

“Yeah...I sort of gathered that much for myself, Alf,” Edward answers. 

Alfred stays silent. 

“Look,” Edward says after a moment, “do you want me to go and keep Pippa distracted for a while? I can try to make sure she gives you a bit of space? Or I can stay in here with you for a bit. If you’d prefer, that is.” 

Feeling a strange kind of warmth in his chest as Edward looks at him earnestly, Alfred opens his mouth to respond - but before he can say anything, the door slams open abruptly, making both of them jump. He looks over to see Pippa standing in the doorway, looking thoroughly peeved about something. 

“Alfred,” she says, her voice overly loud in the small room, “can I have a word with you? Privately?”

“Alfred’s feeling a bit overwhelmed right now, Pippa,” Edward says politely, rising from the bed to face her before Alfred can respond. “He just needs to take a little break from hosting everyone for a bit. He’ll be out in a moment.” 

“Well, this will only take a moment,” Pippa answers stubbornly. “I need a word with him. A _private_ word.” 

Edward opens his mouth to argue, but Alfred speaks up.

“It’s okay, Edward.” 

Edward glances at him, his dark eyes wide and worried. 

“It’s okay,” Alfred repeats. “I’ll be out in a minute. I promise.” 

Edward hesitates, looking extremely reluctant to leave, but Pippa taps her foot pointedly, standing there with her hands on her hips. Edward turns back to Alfred.

“I’ll be back soon, okay, Alf?” he says quietly. 

Alfred nods mutely. With one last concerned look at him, Edward quietly leaves the room. 

Pippa comes over to the bed and sits next to Alfred, in the spot Edward has just vacated. 

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on, Alfred?” she asks. “You’ve been acting kind of weirdly tonight.”

“ _I’ve_ been acting weirdly?” he responds indignantly.

“Well, yes,” she says, laying a hand on his thigh. Instinctively, he jerks his leg away from her, and Pippa looks at him with hurt and bewilderment in her eyes. “I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”

“What... I haven’t been avoiding you, you’ve just been following me everywhere, Pippa!”

“ _Following_ you?” she echoes angrily. 

“Look,” Alfred sighs, rubbing a hand agitatedly across his forehead, “I’m not trying to be rude, okay? I just...I don’t understand what’s come over you tonight, that’s all. I mean, one moment you’re super keen on Florence and chatting to her and asking after her all the time, and the next, she’s sick and alone in bed on Christmas, and you refuse to check in on her, hell, you don’t even _ask_ after her -” 

“Florence?” Pippa asks, looking at him in utter bewilderment. “What on earth does _Florence_ have to do with anything?”

Alfred frowns at her. 

“What?”

“I mean, she seems perfectly sweet,” Pippa clarifies, “and obviously I’m nice to her when I see her in the cafe because I know she’s your friend - but why should it matter to me whether she’s here or not? Why should I care if she’s sick? Hell, what difference would it make to my life if Florence was dead or alive?” 

Alfred feels as though his stomach is falling through the floor. He gapes at Pippa in horror, stunned by the callous dismissiveness of her words. 

“But...but you kept on coming back to the cafe…” he stutters, struggling to make sense of what’s happening right now. 

“Yeah - I kept coming back to the cafe _for you_ , Alfred,” Pippa responds, speaking slowly and clearly, as though he has difficulty understanding English. “Because I’m majorly into you, and I have been since I first saw you. And you’re majorly into me too. Obviously. Otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me to come here tonight as your date.” 

Alfred stares at her, reeling, trying to process it all. 

He was wrong. How was he _so_ wrong? 

“Pippa,” he says hoarsely, when he finds his voice. “I didn’t ask you here tonight as _my_ date. I asked you here as _Florence’s_ date. On her behalf. Because she was really nervous.” 

“ _What?_ ” Pippa snaps. 

He takes a deep breath. 

“Florence is the one who’s into you, not me. I certainly wouldn’t be into you _now_ , even if I had ever been in the first place - you’re being really nasty about somebody who’s important to me.”

“What? I’m hardly being _nasty_ -”

“Look,” he says, cutting her off, “there was never the remotest chance of me being into you. I’m gay, Pippa. I’m really gay.” 

She stares at him. 

“Gay?” she echoes. 

Alfred nods. 

Her face suddenly contorts in fury. 

“Oh, I get it! You’ve been sleeping with Edward all this time, haven’t you? Behind my back?” 

“ _What?!_ ” Alfred exclaims, completely thrown. “That’s not...what...firstly, Pippa, Edward and I are just best friends. We’re not sleeping together and we never have been. And secondly, even if I _was_ sleeping with him, it wouldn’t be ‘behind your back’, because you and I are not dating, and, again, _I am not into you!!_ ” 

Florence glares at him.

“So, what, even though you’re gay, you thought you would just lead me on and flirt with me, just because you could, and then laugh about it with your friends?” 

“ _No_ !” Alfred exclaims through gritted teeth. “I _wasn’t_ trying to lead you on - I swear, I didn’t even have a clue that you liked me like that! Evidently I somehow managed to accidentally give you the wrong message somewhere along the line, and I’m really sorry about that. Truly. I was just trying to encourage you on _Florence’s_ behalf, because I really did think you were into her. _She’s_ into _you._ But I’m not, Pippa. I’m sorry, but I’m really, really not.” 

For a moment, the two of them glare at each other in silence, breathing hard. Then, abruptly, Pippa stands up, her face still twisted in rage. 

“You know what? Why don’t you just go and _fuck yourself_ , Alfred Paget? And you can tell your stupid little friend Florence that I said the same to her!” 

And with that, she bangs his bedroom door open and storms out. A moment later, he hears the front door of the apartment slam. 

  
  


Alfred sits there on the bed, numb. 

He was wrong. He was so, so wrong. 

It would be one thing if he hadn’t pulled anybody else into this mess. He and Pippa would still both be embarrassed, and she would still have been upset and angry - though frankly, now he’s finally seen her true colours, he can’t bring himself to be all that worried about her feelings being hurt, or, more likely, her ego being wounded. 

But the thing is, he _has_ brought somebody else into his mess. He was the one who convinced Florence that Pippa wanted to date her, he was the one who got her all excited, who got her hopes up. And now...when she finds out the truth...if she were ever to get wind of the things that Pippa had said...God, what has he _done?_

All of a sudden, sitting on his bed feeling small, stupid, guilt-stricken and alone, Alfred feels an overwhelming urge to cry. He raises a shaking hand to his mouth, rapidly blinking to try and hold back the tears.

There is a gentle knock on the door; a moment later, it opens slightly and Edward tentatively pokes his head into the room. 

“Alf? Are you okay? I just saw Pippa storming out and she didn’t seem very happy, so I thought I’d…”

His voice trails off as Alfred looks up to meet his gaze. Edward’s eyes widen in alarm at the look on his face. 

“ _Alf!”_ he exclaims, hurrying over to the bed and sitting down next to him. He half-raises his hand awkwardly, as though he’s not sure whether or not Alfred is okay with being touched at the moment. “What is it? What happened??”

Alfred looks over at him, feeling tears welling in his eyes. He tries to swallow against the sudden lump in his throat. 

“I fucked up, Edward.” 

Edward looks at him, his dark eyes sympathetic. The expression on his face is far too understanding for Alfred’s comfort, and he remembers again all the times Edward had tried to warn him to be careful, to make sure nobody got hurt. 

_When I tell you to be careful not to hurt anybody, you do know I’m including_ you _in that, right?_

“Please,” Alfred chokes. “Don’t say ‘I told you so.’” 

Edward looks at him earnestly, and shakes his head. 

“I wasn’t going to,” he says quietly. 

Alfred nods shakily. He tries to laugh it all off, not wanting Edward to look so worried about him, but all that comes out is a huge sob.

Immediately, he feels himself being pulled into Edward’s arms. And normally he would tell Edward that he’s fine, he doesn’t need any help - but really, who is he kidding? 

And so, just this once, Alfred lets himself cry, heaving breaths in great, gasping sobs, thankful for Edward’s quiet presence, knowing that he’s safe to cry here, that Edward won’t tell anyone else. He feels Edward’s strong, warm arms tightening around him, and he buries his face in his best friend’s chest, feeling Edward’s shirt growing damp under his tears. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry...but it's probably about time Alfred had reality smacking him in the face a bit! XD


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the Christmas party, Alfred has some apologies and uncomfortable conversations to get through.
> 
> Pippa Elton leaves town in a fit of rage, but there's a new arrival to distract Alfred before long...

When Alfred wakes up late the next morning, bright sunlight glaring through the thin curtains, it takes him a few moments to remember just _why_ he feels so awful, why there seems to be such a heavy weight of guilt and humiliation in his stomach. 

But then the scenes from the night before come back to him; Pippa shamelessly coming onto him throughout the party, her cold and harsh indifference towards Florence, her rage and vicious words when he had rejected her. Her bitter parting words seem to ring in his ears. _Why don’t you just go and_ fork _yourself, Alfred Paget? And you can tell your stupid little friend Florence that I said the same to her!_

Alfred groans at the memories, screwing his eyes shut tight against the sunlight and curling up into a ball under his duvet. How the here has he managed to make such a _mess_ of everything??

The temptation to stay in bed and hide from the world is almost overwhelming. But it only takes him a minute to realise that’s probably not a viable or realistic option. Firstly, he can hear movement from the kitchen, meaning that Edward is definitely up already, and god knows he doesn’t want to worry him any more than he already had done last night. And secondly, he can already guess that Edward is trying to coax him out of bed, because there’s a familiar and delicious smell pervading the whole apartment. 

Sure enough, when Alfred shuffles bleary-eyed out of his bedroom five minutes later, wrapped in his fluffy dressing gown and wearing the absurdly comfortable slippers Edward had given him last Christmas, it’s to find his best friend fully dressed and putting the finishing touches on a huge pile of pancakes. Alfred can already feel his mouth watering at the sight. 

At the sound of his entrance, Edward glances up at him, an expression of relief on his face. He shoots Alfred a small grin.

“Hungry?”

“Starving,” Alfred responds, realising only as he says it just how true it is.

Edward chuckles. 

“I was going to come and get you in a minute, otherwise this lot would have gone cold. Sit down, I’ll knock you up a plate.” 

Obediently, he sits down at their little kitchen table, watching as Edward drowns his stack of pancakes in maple syrup, strawberries and banana, just the way he likes it. He brings it over with a huge, steaming mug of coffee. 

“Eat. I don’t want you wasting away.”

“Well, that’s hardly likely, is it,” Alfred replies, rolling his eyes at his roommate even as he can’t help but grin slightly. He takes a bite eagerly. “It’s delicious, Edward. Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Edward answers with a small smile as he piles up a plate for himself, grabs his own mug and sits down opposite him. 

For a few moments, the two of them sit eating in companionable silence. But Alfred can’t ignore the twisting feeling of embarrassment and guilt as he sits there watching Edward sip his coffee. Edward, his best friend in the world, who always seems to be left to deal with the fallout after he makes a mess. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. Edward glances at him in surprise. 

“For what?”

Alfred sighs. 

“I was an idiot. None of this crap would have happened if I had listened to you.” 

“No…” Edward starts. 

Alfred raises an eyebrow at him, and Edward grins sheepishly. 

“Well, okay, yeah,” he admits. Alfred huffs a reluctant laugh. “But I know your intentions were good. They always are.”

Alfred sniffs slightly and looks down at his plate, suddenly not feeling so hungry anymore. He’s always had faith in himself before, always been convinced that he’s saying and doing the right things to make his friends’ lives better. But everything feels a bit more difficult, now that he’s screwed things up so badly with Pippa and Florence. 

“Alf?” Edward says quietly, interrupting his reverie, and Alfred looks up to see his dark eyes watching him in concern. “Are you okay? Because you know that after a setback like this it’s normal to feel -”

“Don’t be silly, Edward, I’m _fine_!” he protests. The last thing he needs right now is Edward worrying about him. He doesn’t want to keep feeling vulnerable like this. “Okay, yes, I made one mistake, and it wasn’t great. But you know me, nothing keeps me down for long. I’ll be back in the saddle and helping people again before you know it!”

Edward looks unconvinced; he narrows his eyes at him slightly. 

“Do _not_ doubt me, Edward Drummond!” he says fiercely. 

“I didn’t think I was allowed to,” he responds, looking slightly alarmed. 

Alfred pauses as his words sink in. He can’t help but grin sheepishly, rolling his eyes a little. Edward grins back at him for a moment, before his smile fades, leaving a little frown in its place. 

“What are you going to say to Florence?” he asks quietly. 

At the sound of her name, Alfred feels another sickening surge of guilt roiling in his stomach. Florence is going to be so hurt, her insecurities might come rushing back - and it’s all his fault for putting stupid ideas in her head in the first place. And she’s sick right now on top of everything else! God, _how_ is he going to make this up for her? How is he going to explain or apologise for this?

He groans loudly, burying his face in his hands. After a moment of silence, Edward tentatively speaks up again. 

“Alf, if you want my help -”

“No,” Alfred sighs reluctantly, raising his head and meeting his best friend’s earnest gaze. “You’ve already had to take care of my dumb ass, it shouldn’t be your responsibility to take care of Flo as well. I made this mess, so I’m the one who needs to fix it.” 

“Well, that’s true,” Edward says teasingly. Alfred rolls his eyes at him. Edward’s smile drops again. “So what are you going to do?” he asks more seriously. 

Alfred sighs.

“I suppose I’ll have to go and visit her today. Explain in person. I’ll go text her…” 

He half-rises from his seat.

“You can finish your breakfast first,” Edward says sternly. 

“But this is important -” Alfred protests.

“I know it is, but so is food. I don’t want you going hungry, Alf. You need your strength.” 

Alfred sighs and nods, sinking back into his seat. Edward’s pancakes really are pretty great. 

He hesitates for a moment once his plate is clean; looking at Edward.

“Go get your phone, I’ll clean up,” Edward assures him. Alfred gives him a grateful smile before dashing to his room. 

Returning to their little living room with his phone, Alfred sinks down at their little kitchen table again, chewing nervously on his lower lip as he tries to think how to phrase his text. It’s a tic he’s picked up from Edward, though he’s rarely anxious enough to use it. 

Finally, he manages to type out a message that doesn’t sound too awkward. 

_Hi Florence,_

_I hope you’re feeling a bit better - I missed you last night!_

_I was wondering if I could pop in and visit you at some point this afternoon? I’d like to see how you’re doing and maybe bring you something to cheer you up a bit. I also have some news for you; and I think it might be better if I tell you in person rather than over the phone. Don’t worry too much about germs - it’s worth it to hang out with you for a bit!_

_Hugs,_

_Alfred xx_

Tentatively, he approaches Edward in the kitchen where he’s busy washing dishes. 

“Edward? Can you please check this over before I send it to Flo?”

Edward looks rather stunned.

“You’re actually asking me for help?” 

Alfred shrugs. 

“I wanna make sure I don’t sound awkward or cold or distant or...anything like that. But not overly cheery either, I guess - I don’t want to get her hopes up. Again, I mean.” 

Seeming to sense his sincerity, Edward nods, taking the phone he’s proffering and scanning through the text. 

“That looks fine, Alf,” he says reassuringly, handing it back to him. 

“You’re sure?” he asks anxiously. Edward nods. 

“Ok, sending it,” he says, taking a deep breath as he presses send. 

A moment later, his phone screen lights up with a response. 

_Hi Alfred,_

_I hope you had a great night last night and had fun for me!_

_I’m still not feeling great, to be honest - but it would definitely cheer me up if you could pop in for a bit! And I’d love to hear your news, whatever it is! Would 2 this afternoon be ok?_

_See you soon,_

_Flo xx_

“She doesn’t sound very worried,” Alfred observes, glancing up at Edward after he’s read the text aloud to him. 

“Well, you don’t want her to be worried,” Edward reassures him. “You just want to make sure she knows the truth. And be gentle about it.” 

Alfred nods, taking another deep breath before typing out a quick response. 

_Sure, 2 would be perfect! See you then - take care of yourself!_

_Alf xx_

He sighs, placing the phone down on the kitchen counter and rubbing a hand through his hair anxiously as Edward turns back to the dishes.

“Well, I think I’ve learnt my lesson, at least,” he says.

“And what lesson would that be?” 

“No more meddling. I’m not going to try and matchmake any more.” 

Edward looks up at him with a rather doubtful expression on his face.

“ _Really?_ You’re not going to try and push Florence together with anyone else?” 

Alfred hesitates.

“Well,” he qualifies, “I mean, I’m hardly going to _discourage_ her if I think she’s found someone right for her. I’ll happily nudge her along if I think she’s on the right track. But I won’t, you know - _actively_ intervene any more. What I mean is - I’m going to try and behave.”

Edward looks at him searchingly for a moment, then grins widely and turns back to the dishes. 

“Now this I _have_ to see.” 

* * *

  
  


When Alfred tentatively rings the doorbell at Florence’s apartment a few hours later, he’s alarmed to hear how weak and hoarse her voice sounds as she calls “Just coming!”

A moment later, she appears at the door in her fluffy dressing gown, her face looking flushed and hot, blonde hair a mess, her eyes rather bloodshot. Evidently, she’s only just got out of bed; and from the looks of it, even just walking over to the door to let him in has taken quite a lot of energy for her. This doesn’t do much to assuage the feelings of guilt still twisting in his stomach. 

“Hi, Alfred!” Florence rasps, giving him a weak smile. “It’s so lovely to see you - Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” he responds. “But you should definitely be in bed, Flo.”

“Oh, but - ”

“You know you don’t need to get up and make an effort, Flo, it’s only me,” he says sternly.

“But you’re a guest -”

“Don’t be silly, I didn’t come here expecting you to take care of me, I’m here to take care of _you_!”

“I can make you tea -”

“I can make tea perfectly well for myself. Oh, and that reminds me” - he holds up the bag in his hand - “I did a quick run to the cafe to get you some of the best chicken noodle soup in the world. And Edward’s been on a baking spree recently, so I’ve brought you some of the muffins he made as well. So there’s nothing you need to do except go back to bed, and I’ll heat up this soup and bring it to you.”

Florence opens her mouth to protest again, and Alfred sighs. 

“Okay, compromise. You can lie down on the couch over there instead, as long as you don’t do anything and don’t make any effort to help me. I’ll bring you soup and I’ll get you a blanket, just sit still and relax.”

She cracks a small, sheepish grin. 

“Alright. That seems acceptable.”

She sits down on the couch obediently, as Alfred dithers and takes his time fetching a thick blanket and draping it over her, heating up the soup and looking for a nice cheery mug to put it in. 

He sighs to himself quietly. He’s trying to procrastinate, to put off the moment he has to tell her what he’s done and how he’s screwed up, and he knows it. He tries to ignore the anxiety and guilt roiling inside him as he painstakingly arranges Edward’s muffins into a symmetrical pattern on the plate. How is he going to explain this to her? What if Florence is _furious_ with him? He wouldn’t blame her. 

Finally, Alfred hands her a hot steaming mug of soup and places the muffins down on the table in front of her. 

“Thank you so much,” Florence croaks. “You’re so kind to me all the time, Alfred. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it.”

He forces a smile as he sits down in the armchair opposite her, hoping his guilt isn’t too obvious on his face. 

“I’ve told you not to put yourself down, Flo,” he says lightly. “I’m kind to you because you’re awesome and you _do_ deserve it. And anyway, you’re sick. _Everyone_ deserves to be taken care of when they’re sick.” 

She smiles at him, blowing on her soup and taking a sip. 

“So, what was it you wanted to tell me?” Florence asks.

“Hmm?” he asks, stalling as his insides twist in anxiety. 

“You said in your text that you had some news for me? And you thought it was something you needed to tell me face to face?” 

“Oh, that,” he says, as though he could have forgotten it for a second. 

“It’s not bad, is it?” she asks, her eyes anxiously scanning his face. 

Alfred winces slightly.

“It’s…” he hesitates, still struggling to think of the right words. He remembers what Edward had said. _You just want to make sure she knows the truth. And be gentle about it._ “Well, I spoke to Pippa last night.”

“You did?” Florence asks eagerly. “What did she say?”

“She, um…” _God_ , he hates this. “Well, the thing is, she...Pippa doesn’t have a crush on you, Florence. She doesn’t like you - at least, not like that - after all. I...I was wrong.”

He watches as Florence’s entire face falls. He wishes he could just sink through the floor right now. 

“Oh,” she says quietly. 

He can see her bottom lip beginning to tremble - but she seems to be making a heroic effort not to cry. 

“I know it was me that put the idea in your head in the first place,” he says quickly, as though rushing these words will make them any less uncomfortable for either of them. “And I’m really, _really_ sorry, Flo.”

She nods slowly as she processes his words, not quite meeting his eyes. 

“Did...did she tell you that she wasn’t interested in me? In those words?” 

Alfred flinches a little as the memory of Pippa’s vicious, hurtful comments come back to him again. 

“More or less,” he says evasively. “Among other things.” 

Florence looks at him, and he has an uneasy feeling that she can guess the elements of the conversation that he’s omitting to try and spare her feelings. 

“Look,” he says quietly. “This was my fault, Florence. There were some...miscommunications, but none of it would have happened if I hadn’t been so blindly insistent on trying to shove the two of you together.” 

Florence shakes her head.

“Please don’t blame yourself, Alfred,” she protests. “I mean, I’m upset and a bit embarrassed, sure, but I’ll live. It’s not the end of the world. I guess Pippa and I were just...never meant to be. I think I always knew that, deep down.”

“You did?” Alfred asks, feeling his weight of guilt begin to lighten a little. 

Florence shrugs. 

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, let’s face it; only a friend as lovely as you would have even entertained the notion that somebody like Pippa Elton would ever fall in love with somebody like _me._ ”

“Hey, I’ve told you,” Alfred responds sharply, “no putting yourself down on my watch. You’re wonderful, Florence. Anybody would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend - and _certainly_ Pippa Bloody Elton.”

Florence glances at him with a small, surprised grin. 

“Well, you don’t sound as enthusiastic about her as you did before.” 

“Yeah, well,” he says with a shrug and a grimace, “I was stupid before. She said some things last night that were...not great. To be honest, Flo, I think you and I might both be better off without her in our lives. You may have actually dodged a bullet.” 

“You really think so?” she asks, staring at him.

“Yeah, I do,” Alfred says fervently. She still looks a little downcast, so he goes on. “Look, Florence, I know it hurts right now, and I know what I did didn’t help - and I’m really, really sorry about that. Whatever you need, I’m here for you, I promise. And besides, there’s plenty of other people out there - people who will be kinder and better and more worthy of you.”

“Really?” Florence asks, her face lighting up a little as she looks at him earnestly. 

Alfred hesitates, remembering the promise he’s just made to Edward. 

“Absolutely, Flo. You’ll find the right person for you one day, I’m sure of it. But…” he sighs, hardly believing he’s about to say this. “I screwed up with Pippa. I know that, and I’m sorry. I got this idea in my head about what I wanted and so I didn’t pay enough attention to what was happening right in front of me. But the last thing I want is to hurt you again, or raise your hopes unnecessarily, so from here on in - I’m not going to try and set you up with anybody. If you like somebody and they like you back, you should date them. Whoever they are, they’ll be lucky to have you.”

“Oh,” Florence responds, sounding rather stunned, and not particularly enthusiastic at this turn of events. “You mean...you’re not going to help me anymore? You’re not going to give me advice?” 

He hesitates again. 

“Well, I mean, I’ll give you my honest opinion if you ask me,” he concedes. “I’ll encourage you if I think the person is lovely and into you and a good match. And of course I’ll warn you if I think they’re awful, or if there’s something you don’t know about them that you should. But I won’t interfere or meddle like I did before. Or at least…” he shrugs slightly. “I’ll do my best.” He looks at her. “And I want you to speak up and stop me if you think I’m getting carried away. Deal?”

Florence grins at him. 

“Deal.” 

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite couple!” Alfred says warmly, beaming as Robert and Emma Peel walk into the cafe hand in hand, shivering slightly and bundled up in warm coats and scarves. _At least I got_ one _couple right_ , he thinks to himself.

Emma beams back at him, as the two of them come and sit down on either side of Edward at the counter. 

“Edward!” Robert booms enthusiastically as he sits next to him. 

“Hello, sir,” Edward replies with a small smile. 

“Keeping up with your work, are you?” he asks, glancing at Edward’s open laptop. 

“I always do, sir, you know that,” he answers with a grin. 

Robert chuckles fondly.

“I do know that, true enough.” 

“And hello to you, too, sweetheart,” Emma says to Florence, who is hovering next to Alfred, wiping down the counter. “Are you feeling a bit better now? I heard that you weren’t feeling well at Christmas; I was sorry to miss you at the party!”

Florence nods with a grateful smile. 

“Yes, thank you; I’m feeling _much_ better now. Alfred took care of me.”

Emma smiles in his direction. 

“Yes, he does that.” 

“Well, I try,” Alfred says with a shrug, hoping that the pang of guilt he’s feeling isn’t too obvious in his voice. “So, what can I get you two?” he asks, feeling it prudent to change the subject. 

“Large black coffee,” Robert responds.

“And I think I’ll have one of your fabulous dark hot chocolates, please,” Emma adds with a smile. 

“Coming right up,” he replies with a grin, turning to the coffee machine. 

“That charming woman from your Christmas party not here, Alfred?” Robert asks cheerfully. “Pippa, was it? I don’t think I’ve seen her since then!” 

Alfred tenses, feeling Florence flinch beside him simultaneously. He can feel Edward’s concerned gaze. 

“No, she’s not here,” he says, as lightly as he can. “She doesn’t really come to the cafe anymore.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he sees that Emma is shooting daggers at Robert with her eyes. Robert looks rather bemused at her reaction to his innocuous question. 

“I actually saw her drive past me when I was running some errands in town the other day,” Emma says tentatively, looking at Alfred as though she’s worried about offending him. “She looked rather angry. And there seemed to be a suitcase and a huge bag next to her on the passenger seat. It...didn’t seem like she was planning on coming back to Highbury in a hurry.” 

Florence looks uneasy at this information, as though she isn’t quite sure how to react. Alfred, however, feels a sense of relief, as though a burden has suddenly lifted off his shoulders that he hadn’t even realised he was carrying. 

“Sulking, I suppose,” he mutters to himself in an undertone. “Good riddance.” 

He can still feel Emma’s eyes on him, thoughtful and understanding, but he doesn’t quite want to meet her gaze right now. To his relief, he hears Edward hastily change the topic, engaging Robert in some discussion about work, leaving him free to bustle around and occupy himself with making their drinks for a few moments before he has to answer any more uncomfortable questions. 

“So,” he says a few minutes later, sliding their drinks across the counter to them with a grin, “is it really true what you were trying to tell me at the Christmas party, Robert?” 

“Which bit?” Robert asks confusedly, frowning slightly.

“The bit where you were saying that Will is going to be coming to Highbury for a visit very soon!” Alfred enthuses. The muscle in Edward’s jaw tenses slightly. “I mean, I was a bit preoccupied at the party, as you probably noticed, but if I haven’t got the wrong end of the stick, then you said on that night that your son would be coming for a visit in about two weeks! And given that our Christmas party was two weeks ago now - that must mean we should be expecting Will any day now, right?! Is he arriving this weekend??”

“Ah,” Robert says a little awkwardly. “Well, Will _was_ planning to arrive this weekend, but he called me last night to tell me that something urgent has come up with his work in London. So it looks like, unfortunately, he’s going to have to delay his visit here once again.” 

“ _No_!” Alfred exclaims in dismay. 

“Afraid so,” Robert says with a little shrug. 

“But I was so looking forward to finally meeting the famous Will Peel, I’ve heard so many wonderful things about him!!” Alfred sighs, thoroughly disappointed. “Did you try to persuade him, Robert?” 

“I did,” Robert sighs. “I told him that surely his work can wait a little, given that I haven’t seen him for such a long time and I know everybody here is so excited to see him, but…” he gives another defeated shrug. “It is what it is, I suppose.” 

“That’s so annoying,” Alfred protests with a pout. He sighs. “I guess it must be really difficult and annoying for him too though, being so piled up with work that he can’t visit his dad.”

“Did he say what it was precisely that was holding him up at work?” Edward asks. 

Robert furrows his brow as he tries to remember. 

“He did say something, I think...but oh, it all sounded very complicated and technical, I didn’t quite understand it, to be honest. But oh well, there’s no point in being gloomy about it - I’m sure he’ll still be visiting us here in Highbury as soon as he can, eh?” 

“Mm,” Edward replies noncommittally, taking another sip of coffee to try and hide the doubting expression on his face. 

Alfred frowns at him slightly. He knows Edward doesn’t have a particularly high opinion of Will, for no justifiable reason as far as he can see - but does he really have to make that so _obvious_? 

Alfred opens his mouth, but before he can say anything he’s distracted by the bell tinkling as the door opens, and he looks up to see a very familiar middle-aged man limping into the cafe, leaning heavily on his walking stick. 

“Dad!” he greets him in delighted surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I came here to find you, Alfred, you silly boy,” Henry Paget grumbles in response. “I wanted to speak to you about something.”

“You know you could have called me, right?” Alfred asks, grinning at him. 

“Yes, that’s all very well, but you never answer your phone while you’re at work, do you?” Henry points out. “Now, are you going to show me to a nice comfortable table to sit at, or are you just going to stand there at the counter asking me what I’m doing here? I’m not getting any younger, you know - and you know Doctor Perry has told me _numerous_ times that I shouldn’t be standing up for too long, it will inflame my wounded leg!”

“Yes, yes, Dad, I _know_ you’re not supposed to stand,” Alfred replies, rolling his eyes slightly. “Let me just grab you a menu - why don’t you sit there, by the window,” he adds, pointing. 

“We’ll come and sit with you, Henry,” Emma says hastily, nudging her husband out of his high seat at the counter and walking over to Henry’s table. Edward quickly follows them.

“How are you doing, Henry?” Edward asks. 

“Well, I’m not as young as I was once, and I’m afraid I’m feeling it rather a lot at the moment,” Henry says mournfully. “You know I’ve had to go to Doctor Perry about this damned leg of mine playing up three times in the last month alone? Not that I’m complaining, of course…” 

“Dad, do you want me to make you a coffee?” Alfred calls to him. 

“No, I don’t want coffee, Alfred, I’ve told you it puts me on edge and makes my stomach play up! Coffee never does anybody any good; I keep telling you you shouldn’t be drinking so much of it! I’ll just have a chamomile tea with a tiny bit of honey, please - but not too hot, Alfred, I don’t want to burn myself.”

Alfred sighs.

“Coming right up, Dad,” he says, turning away so his father won’t see him rolling his eyes. 

Henry Paget was a soldier in the army in his younger days, which is how his right leg was wounded so badly that he’s had to limp around with a stick ever since. Alfred used to adore hearing all the stories of his brave adventures when he was little; but these days it can sometimes be hard to imagine him fighting in battles, given the fussing and the hypochondria he’s become prone to as he gets older. Alfred loves his dad immensely, especially given how warmly and readily he welcomed Edward and Charlotte when they needed a father figure, but he feels sorry for Doctor Perry sometimes, given how often Henry makes appointments with him for the slightest concerns. 

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he mutters to Florence. “I’m just gonna go see what my dad wants, okay?” 

Florence nods.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got everything covered.”

“Here you go, Dad,” Alfred says, passing him a mug. “One chamomile tea with honey, hot but not too hot.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Henry replies gruffly, taking a tentative sip to check that the temperature is acceptable and nodding his approval. 

“So, what’s this thing you needed to tell me?”

“Well, sit down so I can tell you properly! Come on, sit, sit!”

Alfred sighs and does as he’s told. Edward hides a grin behind his hand. 

“What is it, Dad?” 

“It’s poor old Mrs Grey,” Henry sighs. 

“What, the Duchess?” Alfred asks without thinking, and Henry narrows his eyes at him.

“Don’t call her that, Alfred, it’s not polite.” 

“Fine, fine,” he says, wanting to pacify his father. “What’s wrong with Mrs Grey?” 

“She’s been feeling rather poorly recently, Alfred. You know she’s getting on a bit. I imagine you’ve noticed that she hasn’t been coming here to the cafe for weeks and weeks now, even though she’s usually one of your most regular customers?” 

He has indeed noticed this; the Duchess’s absence is probably one of the major reasons that things have generally been running more smoothly at the cafe over the past few weeks. Well...the Pippa debacle aside. 

“I’m sorry to hear Mrs Grey isn’t feeling her best,” Alfred answers his father. “But what’s this got to do with me?” 

Henry frowns at him sternly. 

“Young man, you know perfectly well how fond she is of you, that’s the main reason she keeps coming back to this cafe. She’s been feeling tired and not as mobile as usual recently - she’s a strong woman and I’m sure she’ll rally soon, but in the meantime, I know that she’s been missing your company. I came here to tell you that I know it would do her a _world_ of good if you visited her.”

Alfred groans.

“But she’s so cantankerous, Dad!” 

Henry glares at him. 

“Show a little respect for your elders, Alfred! Think of that niece of hers, Mina Coke - she’s spending most of her time taking care of her aunt at the moment! And I’m sure she’ll be there when you visit, so it’s not like you won’t have anybody else to talk to!”

Alfred sighs again; hanging out with Mina on top of the Duchess really isn’t the added incentive that his father seems to think it is. 

“You know what, maybe you could do with taking a leaf out of James Grey’s book! I’m sure _he_ won’t whinge and complain about taking care of his aunt while she’s poorly! Maybe I should just tell Mrs Grey that she’ll just need to wait for James to get back from London, because unfortunately he’s a bit more caring and compassionate than _my_ son, who has better things to do with his life than taking care of a sick old lady -”

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it!” Alfred exclaims, rankled by this comparison to James Bloody Grey, as his father probably knew he would be. Henry sits back in his seat, satisfied. “But Edward has to come with me,” he adds. 

“What?” Edward protests. He’s more than a little bit scared of the Duchess, and Alfred knows it. 

Alfred turns to him, giving him his best puppy eyes, and Edward caves a moment later.

“Fine,” he sighs. 

* * *

  
  


“Why do _I_ have to come?” Edward grumbles the next day, as they trudge up the gravel path towards the Duchess’s little cottage, Edward having driven them there as soon as Alfred had finished his shift at Hartfield. “Henry said Mrs Grey wants to see _you_ , not me.”

“You’ve come because you’re a lovely friend who wants to help me,” Alfred responds in a faux cheerful voice. “I wouldn’t be able to stand visiting the old bat by myself, I need your company. Besides, you’re better at being nice than I am, and you know it.” 

“Well it’s not like she’s _my_ favourite person in the world, either,” Edward complains. “Why couldn’t you have made Florence come with you?”

Alfred just looks at him, raising an eyebrow pointedly until he cottons on. 

“Oh, right,” he says quickly. “Mina.” 

“Yes,” Alfred replies shortly, turning away so that Edward can’t meet his eyes. 

The whole topic of Mina and Florence is still rather delicate between them, and the memory of their argument about it makes Alfred feel even _more_ guilty and uncomfortable, now that he knows his confidence about Pippa and Florence was based on nothing but his own wishful thinking and blind stubbornness. It’s not like he can just magically fix it now, given the awkwardness between them since Flo had followed his advice and rejected Mina; hence why he’d deliberately chosen to come here without Florence. And he can’t pretend he’s any fonder of Mina than he was before, either, especially given her propensity to ramble awkwardly and wax lyrical about James Grey. 

Still, Alfred can’t deny that he feels guilty about the way he’s dismissed Mina in the past, which, though he’s unlikely to admit it to Edward, is a large part of the reason he gave in to his father’s nagging about visiting the Duchess. And though it’s probably still best to keep Flo and Mina away from each other, for a while at least, he’s resolved to be nicer to Mina Coke in future. Well...he’ll try his best. 

Glancing wordlessly at Edward to remind him not to mention Florence unprompted, Alfred knocks tentatively on the door.

Sure enough, it opens a moment later to reveal Mina herself, wearing a bright yellow dress patterned with sunflowers. 

“Hi, Edward!” she says delightedly, smiling widely at them. “Hi, Alfred! How lovely to see you both!”

Alfred is slightly shocked for a moment at her complete lack of anger or bitterness towards him. It takes him a moment before he remembers that she never had any idea that he was involved in Florence’s rejection. He feels another twist of guilt in his stomach at that thought. 

“Lovely to see you too, Mina,” he says quickly, smiling back at her. “My dad informed me that your poor aunt still wasn’t feeling her best at the moment - so Edward and I thought she might appreciate a visit!”

He feels Edward squirm a little next to him at this revision of history, but he ignores him. 

“We’ve even brought her some of her favourite chicken noodle soup from Hartfield, free of charge!” Alfred continues, still smiling at Mina. 

“Oh gosh, that’s so thoughtful of you!” Mina responds, beaming. “She _has_ been a bit of a handful recently” - _Oh god_ , Alfred thinks - “but I suppose it’s understandable for somebody to be a bit snappier than usual when they’ve been feeling under the weather. But I know how much it will cheer her up to see you both - come on in and make yourselves comfortable!”

Edward glances at Alfred a little nervously as they follow Mina down the corridor, and Alfred rolls his eyes a little, knowing that for Edward the thought of the Duchess being in an even snappier mood than usual is a mildly terrifying thought. 

“Is she feeling any better, Mina?” Alfred asks casually. 

“Oh, well, it’s been a bit touch and go,” she replies. “She’s been complaining a bit about migraines and a delicate stomach, and she’s being quite fussy about the temperature setting - one moment she’ll ask me to turn the heating all the way up to maximum, and the next she’ll complain that it’s like a sauna and ask me if I’m trying to make her suffocate. But anyway, you’ll soon see for yourselves!”

Alfred tries not to sigh at the thought of how annoying this next hour or so is going to be. At least he doesn’t _constantly_ have to deal with the old bat’s whims and mood swings like Mina does, he reminds himself. 

“And how is James doing?” he forces himself to ask, trying to be friendly and polite. “Does he have any news?” 

Mina turns to him with a positive beam on her face. 

“Well, as for James, you can ask him that yourself, if you like!”

“What?!” Alfred asks quickly, hoping that he sounds pleasantly surprised. “James...James is here too?” 

She nods, still beaming. 

“He managed to persuade his boss in London to let him leave the office and work remotely for a bit, so that he could come to Highbury and help me take care of our aunt while she’s feeling poorly! Oh, I was _so_ excited when he told us he was coming back home for a bit, we haven’t seen him in _ages_ , you know how busy he normally is! But yes, our James is here in the living room as we speak, you can ask him about his latest adventures for yourself! And I’m sure he’d love to hear what _you’ve_ been up to, as well!” 

She turns away, leading them down the last bit of corridor, and Alfred stands stock still for a moment. He’d already reconciled himself to spending an hour with Mina and the Duchess - but he hadn’t reckoned on having to hang out with James Grey as well. How is this fair, that Will Peel has been delayed _again_ when he’s been looking forward to meeting him for _ages_ , and instead they’re getting an early visit from James Perfect Can-Do-No-Wrong Grey??

Edward nudges him and Alfred looks over to see that he’s looking at him pointedly, with an expression that seems to say _play nice._ He sighs and nods gloomily, following Mina towards the living room. 

“Auntie, James!” Mina calls, a little ahead of them. “We have two lovely visitors here!”

“Visitors?” Alfred hears the Duchess respond gruffly. “Why would I want to see visitors?”

“They’ve come to see how you’re feeling, Auntie,” Mina replies, determinedly cheerful. 

“Hmph! I very much doubt they care about that. Nobody in this village cares about the suffering of a poor old lady like me, you know; they wouldn’t care even if I was on my deathbed. 

“Hello, Mrs Grey - how are you?” Alfred asks as he steps into the living room, Edward hovering a little awkwardly behind him. He pastes on a winning smile, electing to pretend that he hadn’t heard anything she’d been saying. “We’ve brought you some of your favourite chicken noodle soup from the cafe - we’ve been missing you there!”

“Oh,” the Duchess says, her scowl softening slightly at the sight of him. “Well I suppose if the visitor is you, Alfred Paget, that’s alright. You can stay for a little bit, and so can your friend Edmund or whatever-his-name-is, as long as he’s a bit quieter than Wilhemina here.” 

Edward and Mina both blush slightly, but the Duchess barrels on, as always completely oblivious to any embarrassment she’s caused. 

“Did you know that my nephew has come back from London to see me, Alfred?” she asks, beaming as nobody but James Grey can make her do. “He’s the only person I can ever rely on to take care of me, you know!”

Mina winces slightly at this, but her aunt ignores her. 

“Mina just told us that he was back,” Alfred replies smoothly. “But I imagine that even if she hadn’t, I might have managed to work it out for myself, given that he appears to be right there sitting at your coffee table.” 

He nods in that direction, and James Grey glances up from the laptop he’s been focusing intently on, as though he’s only just noticed their presence. He closes it hastily, standing up to greet them, and Alfred notes immediately that he looks just as perfectly presentable and serious as he ever does, wearing jeans and a no-nonsense grey collared shirt buttoned up to the very top, his dark curls immaculately styled and gelled without a hair out of place, a pencil stuck behind his ear for safekeeping. 

“Alfred, Edward,” he says politely, moving forward to shake each of their hands in turn. “It’s been a while.” 

“It has indeed,” Alfred responds, forcing a smile. 

“I hope you’ve both been well?”

“We have, thanks, James,” Edward answers, giving him a more genuine grin than Alfred had managed, and James smiles back at him. 

“But not as well as you, from what we hear,” Alfred adds. “It seems you’ve been having some fabulous adventures and opportunities in London since we last saw you. How’s your charity work been going? And your art? And your band? Sounds like you’ve been pretty successful recently, to say the least!”

James blushes slightly. 

“Oh, well, you know, I certainly don’t have any complaints at the moment,” he says mildly, with a small shrug. “I’ve been enjoying work a lot, and I guess that’s what matters most, isn’t it?” 

“Absolutely,” Alfred replies through his teeth, hoping his smile hasn’t visibly faltered. God, he’d forgotten how much this _annoyed_ him about James Grey. He’s clearly ridiculously talented and successful, and it’s obvious that everyone in this village thinks he’s absolutely bloody perfect, even the Duchess, who’s never impressed with anything or anybody. So can’t he just _admit_ that? Honestly, Alfred swears he would find James _less_ annoying if he boasted at least a _little_ , or at least told some interesting stories or had some hot gossip about his life in London. But every time they talk, it seems like James gives as little information as possible, commenting mildly and shrugging whenever anyone praises him. Edward would tell him that’s just the way James is, shy and retiring. But to Alfred, it always smacks of false modesty. 

“James has been having _lots_ of adventures in London!” Mina pipes up enthusiastically. Alfred groans inwardly. “You know he got a promotion almost as soon as he got back from his holiday in Cornwall, _and_ he ran in a marathon last weekend to raise some more money for charity, _and_ his band has just had their application to play in a musical festival accepted, _and_ he ran into Robert Peel’s son just the other week -” 

“What?” Alfred asks, tuning in again abruptly. “Will Peel? _You’ve_ met Will Peel?”

James frowns slightly at Mina. She blushes. 

“Yes, I met him through some mutual friends in London,” he answers, turning back to Alfred again. 

“Ooh, and?” Alfred asks excitedly. 

James looks politely puzzled. 

“And?”

“Well, what’s he like?” Alfred asks impatiently, ignoring Edward rolling his eyes beside him. “Is he as wonderful as his dad always says he is? Is he exciting? Is he as gorgeous as he seems from his Instagram?” 

_“Alfred_ ,” Edward whispers. Alfred ignores him. 

James frowns a little for a moment, but then the expression clears, leaving his face completely neutral, and he shrugs. 

“Well, he was a bit loud for my taste. But yes, he seems perfectly nice.” 

Alfred waits expectantly, but it seems James is done. Apparently, that’s literally all he has to say on the topic of Will Peel. Alfred nods and smiles, trying to resist the urge to bang his head gently against the coffee table. 

Nothing. He’s getting _nothing_ out of this guy. 

“Enough of this chatting,” the Duchess says sternly. “Alfred, if you must insist on visiting me, then you can go and make yourself useful by heating up that soup for me. Your friend Edmund” - “Edward,” Alfred reminds her, but she acts as though there was no interruption - “can go park his bottom down on the sofa there. And for heaven’s sake try not to take too long with the soup. My throat is as dry as parchment. Besides, James is going to tell us all about his promotion and I’m sure you won’t want to miss that! And as for _you_ , Wilhemina, turn that damned heating off, it feels like a _sauna_ in here!”

Alfred huffs a small sigh, fixing his smile in place as he heads obediently to the tiny kitchen. 

_Only one hour,_ he reassures himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight misdirect in the chapter summary XD But we'll get there very soon, I promise...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred receives some unpleasant news - but another new arrival might take his mind off his troubles for a bit...

_ One Month Later  _

“Uh oh,” Edward says suddenly, eyes widening slightly as he stares down at his phone. 

“What?” Alfred asks, snapping to attention immediately. 

Until Edward’s exclamation, the two of them had been sitting in companionable silence eating their breakfast, both checking their phones for news, as is their tradition most mornings before Edward drives them to the cafe for the start of Alfred’s shift. 

“ _ What _ , Edward?” Alfred repeats. 

Edward looks hesitant, as though he’s not entirely sure whether he should tell him what it is that’s got him so shocked.

“You unfollowed Pippa Elton, didn’t you?” he asks.

“Yeah, and so did Flo, I think. We don’t need to see her stupid bitchy face every time we go on Insta.” He frowns at Edward. “I thought you unfollowed her too?” 

Edward shakes his head.

“I thought it would be good for at least one of us to be keeping an eye on her.” 

Alfred feels a lurch of unease at the look on his face. 

“Why? What’s she done?”

Edward hesitates slightly again, before reluctantly handing his phone over. 

Alfred’s eyes widen as he takes in the image on Edward’s screen. 

There’s Pippa - somewhere in Bath, by the looks of it - looking more smug and self-satisfied than he’s ever seen her, wrapped tightly around a tall blond man he’s never seen before, who looks almost as smug as she does. Her lips are pressed against his cheek. And her hand is placed carefully so that the huge, expensive-looking engagement ring on her finger is on full display. 

“What the  _ hell _ ?” 

“Did you read the caption?” Edward asks tentatively. 

“No…” Alfred responds, immediately dropping his gaze to the words underneath the nauseating photo. 

_ Wonderful to have some sophisticated adventures in Bath for a while. Now it’s back to work in the quaint little town of Highbury - but at least I’ll get to show off my gorgeous fiance and one true love @alex.hawkins! Highbury, prepare to witness the most fabulous engagement party you’ve ever seen! <3 <3 <3  _

Alfred stares at the caption for a few moments, trying to process it. 

“Well, I guess she’s not too torn up about me anymore,” he says after a moment. 

“No, apparently not,” Edward responds quietly. 

There’s another moment of silence between them, before Alfred stands up abruptly and begins to pace, his frustration bursting its bounds. 

“This is complete  _ bullshit!  _ She got  _ engaged?  _ And this random guy she just met is supposedly her  _ one true love?  _ I mean, for fuck’s sake, it’s been all of six weeks since she threw a tantrum and ditched town!!”

Edward shrugs slightly, watching him in concern. 

“Well, sometimes people make these decisions pretty fast.”

Alfred huffs. 

“And why does she have to drag this Alex guy back to Highbury with her and parade him around? Is this supposed to be revenge, or something? Is she just trying to rub my face in the fact that I failed and I was an idiot? Or is she just trying to hurt Flo by being a smug cow??” 

“I know,” Edward says soothingly. “I know this is a pretty big shock, Alf, and I know it’s going to be difficult for you, but -”

“Never mind me, what about Florence?!” Alfred asks, looking at his best friend in panic. “I’m not even sure she’s over Pippa yet, Edward, and it’s my own stupid fault that she was ever into her in the first place! How am I supposed to break the news that  _ That Woman _ is going to be back here soon, strutting around with a  _ fiance  _ in tow?!” 

Edward stands up, walking over to him and grasping him gently by the shoulders. 

“Alf. Breathe.” 

Alfred inhales slowly, feeling calmer as he meets Edward’s earnest gaze. 

“You can do this,” Edward reassures him. “You can break the news to Florence before she has to face the ‘happy couple.’ Just...let her know gently. And kindly.”

Alfred takes another deep, slightly shaky breath, and nods.

“Okay. Okay, I can do that.” 

“I know you can,” Edward responds, grinning at him. 

* * *

“Florence, there’s something I have to tell you…” Alfred begins quietly as they stand next to each other at the counter. 

“There’s something I need to tell you too,” she answers hastily. 

Alfred stares at her. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Edward staring too. She’s fidgeting, shifting slightly from foot to foot as though unable to stay still. Now that he comes to think of it, Florence has been radiating this strange kind of nervous, restless energy from the moment she walked into the cafe today. It doesn’t bode particularly well that she already seems this anxious when he hasn’t even broken the Pippa news to her yet. 

“So can I talk to you now? Please?” Florence asks, looking at him with wide eyes. 

Noting that Victoria is, unusually, doing the rounds with customers herself, Alfred has an idea. 

“Back room?” 

She nods gratefully; Alfred mouths a quick  _ ‘be right back _ ’ to Edward as he frowns after them slightly. 

“What happened, Flo?” Alfred asks her as soon as they reach the privacy of the back room. 

“I ran into Mina, Alfred,” she tells him, her eyes wide. “Yesterday, I was just shopping in town, and I ran into her, for the first time in  _ ages _ .” 

“...Oh,” Alfred responds after a moment of stunned silence. 

_ Dammit.  _ He was hoping the two of them would manage to stay out of each other’s way for a few more months at least, to allow for minimal awkwardness. 

“And?” he asks, making an effort to keep his voice light. “Was she friendly?” 

“She was, she was really lovely, actually, she asked how I was doing and everything. It was just kind of...awkward.” 

“Awkward in what sense?” he asks tentatively.

“It was just…” Florence hesitates, as though searching for the right words. “It seemed like there was something Mina wanted to say to me, but she wasn’t sure whether she should. I kind of got the impression that...she might still be into me. At least a little bit.” 

“Oh,” he says again, a little awkwardly. “Well, that’s understandable, I guess. Getting over people takes time - well, usually,” he amends, thinking of Pippa Elton’s news. “And you’re wonderful, Flo, it’s not too surprising that somebody might take a while to move on from feelings for you.” 

“I don’t know, it just got me thinking...what if I really hurt her feelings? Maybe I shouldn’t have said no so quickly when she asked me out? Maybe I should have given her a chance? I mean, it’s not like I wasn’t interested in her at all...Alfred, what if I made a mistake?” 

_ Shit,  _ Alfred thinks, as Florence looks at him with anxious eyes. He’s trying not to meddle. He knows that. But he’s not sure if it’s healthy for Florence to be back to square one and obsessing over Mina again, especially when there’s already this baggage between them. Besides, she might be reading Mina’s signals wrong anyway. She needs a distraction…

“Pippa Elton is engaged and she’s coming back to Highbury,” he blurts out. 

Florence stares at him. 

“What?!” 

_ Let her know gently, and kindly _ , Edward had said.  _ Nice work, genius.  _ He sighs. 

“Edward saw that Pippa had posted on her Instagram about her new fiance. His name is Alex Hawkins. And she’s going to be bringing him back to Highbury with her soon. Apparently they’re planning on throwing their engagement party here. I figured somebody had to warn you.” 

“Oh,” says Florence, looking as though she’s struggling to process the information. 

“I know it’s a lot,” Alfred says gently. 

“She’s...she’s engaged?” Florence asks blankly. “ _ Already? _ ”

“I know,” Alfred says bitterly. “Good luck to him, is all I have to say.”

Florence is still staring at him, as though she has no idea what to think. 

“Look,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry to be the messenger here, I know it’s a bit shit. I don’t want to see her again either.”

“No, I’m okay -” Florence starts to protest.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay, Flo,” he says gently. She hesitates, and nods. 

“But I promise you, when she’s here with her stupid new fiance, you won’t have to face them alone - Edward and I will both stay with you and support you,” he says firmly. “Let’s just focus on getting through this first, and then we can worry about Mina later, okay?”

Florence takes a deep breath. 

“Okay.” 

“Let’s head back out, yeah?” 

She nods, giving him a small smile. 

Okay, fine, so he could probably have handled that a bit better, Alfred thinks as he follows her back to the counter. Perhaps Edward would have constituted that as meddling. But on the plus side, he supposes it might be a good sign that Florence is fretting about Mina. Perhaps that means she isn’t hung up on Pippa anymore after all. Maybe Pippa’s return won’t be as horrible as he’d thought. Well, for him it will be - but then, he guesses he deserves that. The important thing is that Pippa won’t be allowed to hurt Florence anymore. Not if he can help it. 

“Everything okay?” Edward mouths, gesturing with his head in Florence’s direction and looking at Alfred with an expression of concern. 

Alfred grimaces slightly. 

“I’ll explain later,” he mouths back at him. 

Edward opens his mouth to respond; but before he can say anything else, the bell on the door tinkles, and they both instinctively look around to see who the new arrival is. 

A tall man wearing a black leather motorbike jacket and  _ very  _ tight black trousers strides into the cafe. His long dark hair is tied back in a ponytail, but he still has tendrils falling over his face, which he casually flicks out of his eyes as he enters. The stranger seems to radiate a kind of restless energy as he gazes around the cafe with a little half-smirk. 

Alfred inhales sharply. He’s never met this man before, but he sure as hell knows who he is. He’s spent enough time stalking - that is, looking at - his Instagram photos by now. Without even really meaning to, he reaches across the counter, squeezing Edward’s arm slightly.

“ _ Edward! _ ” he whispers to him urgently. “That’s - ”

“Yeah, I know who he is, Alfred,” Edward says shortly, taking his arm back, his face curiously expressionless. 

“So this is Hartfield Cafe, is it?” the man asks, his deep voice tinged with amusement. “My father mentioned I would be in for a treat if I came here.”

He grins again as he approaches Alfred at the counter, and Alfred has the strong impression that he could turn even the mildest, most innocuous of comments into an innuendo.

He holds out a hand for Alfred to shake; taking it, he feels rough calluses under his palm.

“Will -”

“Will Peel,” Alfred interrupts. “I know.” Will raises an eyebrow. “Your dad speaks about you a lot,” he adds hastily. 

“I see,” Will says, looking mildly impressed. “Well, I hadn’t realised I was quite so famous...Alfred Paget.” 

Alfred and Edward both stare at him. Will smirks again. 

“You’re not the only one who does your research,” he says. “My father told me you were the one who introduced him to Emma. I gather that you had quite a big hand in bringing the wedding about?” 

“Robert said that, did he?” Alfred asks, a little smugly, with a triumphant grin at Edward. 

“Something along those lines,” Will responds carelessly, sitting himself down in the seat next to Edward. “He also told me that you’ve been asking after me quite a bit. I must say, if he’d mentioned just how handsome you are in the flesh, I might have managed to get here a bit sooner.” 

Alfred feels his face growing warm. 

“Oh, shush,” he replies, trying to laugh it off. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

“Why, thank you,” Will responds with a grin. 

“But I’m afraid you’re going to have to come up with some more original lines than that, Will Peel,” he protests. He’s not used to letting somebody else get the upper hand so easily. “Or are you just used to having men eating out of your hand wherever you go?” 

“Oh, not just men,” Will replies, shooting a dazzling smile and a wink at Florence, who has been staring at him since he arrived, her mouth slightly open, absentmindedly wiping the same mug. Clearly, Florence wasn’t expecting to have his full force flirting suddenly turned on her; she turns bright red, giggling breathlessly. 

Alfred’s eyes widen a little as he files this information away for later. 

“But maybe don’t tell my father I said that,” Will adds, turning back to Alfred to grin at him again. “Dear Old Dad seems to have somehow got the impression that I’m a very good boy. Can’t imagine  _ how  _ he formed that notion - but who am I to challenge somebody’s opinion, eh? So anyway, we’ve covered who  _ you  _ are, Alfred Paget - but what about these other gorgeous people?” 

Florence blushes an even deeper scarlet, while the muscle in Edward’s jaw tenses. 

“Oh, sorry, where are my manners?” Alfred asks, shaking his head with a little laugh, still feeling rather dazed. “Will, this lovely lady is my friend and colleague Florence Kerr, and the lovely man sitting next to you there is my best friend and roommate, Edward Drummond.” 

Will does a slight double take as he looks Edward up and down properly. 

“Drummond, did you say?” he asks. “Not the Edward Drummond who works with my dear father?” 

“Yes, that’s right,” Edward says stiffly, offering his hand for Will to shake rather reluctantly. 

“I met your dad through Edward in the first place, actually,” Alfred adds. 

A delighted grin is spreading across Will’s face. 

“Well, here I was thinking Drummond was probably just a squat little middle-aged man in Dad’s office,” he crows gleefully. “My father’s always going on about Edward Drummond and what a good worker he is, but evidently he can’t be trusted to report things properly - he never mentioned that this Drummond was tall and dark and  _ gorgeous _ !”

Alfred feels a strange twinge of annoyance. Edward doesn’t seem to appreciate the compliment, though, judging from the way his jaw tightens again. 

“God, just  _ look _ at that chiselled jaw!” Will gushes. “Seriously, is there something in the water in this place?” 

“Oh, that reminds me,” Alfred pipes up hastily, feeling a need to distract Will from flirting with Edward for some reason. Edward clearly isn’t comfortable with it, after all. “Can I get you something to drink, Will? We have a fabulous selection of coffees here. Plus, I should probably actually take an order for you before my boss murders me.” 

“Is that her, the little brunette who’s giving you a death glare right now?” he asks conversationally. 

Alfred looks over and winces slightly at the expression on Victoria’s face. 

“Yep, that’s her. Victoria.” 

“Well, I’m pretty sure she’s not going to murder you,” Will says with a grin. “I’m sure she wouldn’t want to deprive the world of somebody so pretty.” 

Alfred feels himself flushing again, rather flattered by all this attention. 

Edward stands up abruptly, scraping back his chair. Alfred looks at him in surprise. 

“Not leaving us already, are you, Drummond?” Will asks with a little pout. 

“Speaking of bosses, I’ve just remembered that there was something Robert wanted me to go through with him directly today, in the office,” Edward replies hastily, avoiding Alfred’s eyes as he packs his laptop away and swings his bag over his shoulder. 

“I imagine my dear father can survive without you for a few hours,” Will says with a grin. “Are you sure Alfred and I can’t tempt you to stay here with us for a good old get-to-know-you session? I can assure you that we’re both  _ much  _ more interesting than my father.” 

“No, sorry, but I really should get going,” Edward says firmly. 

“Everything okay, Edward?” Alfred asks quietly, looking at him in concern. 

“Yeah, of course, I’ve just got to run, that’s all,” Edward answers, still not quite meeting his eyes. “I paid for the coffee already, right?” 

“Yeah, but -”

“Great. Well, it was nice to meet you at last, Will,” Edward says, giving him a small smile that seems rather forced. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other around while you’re here in Highbury. Alf, I’ll see you tonight, okay?” 

Still a little baffled, Alfred only has time to nod mutely before Edward is hurrying out of the cafe without looking back, the bell tinkling as the door closes behind him. 

“Well, it seems like poor Drummond is a bit shy,” Will says, turning back to Alfred with a grin. 

“Yeah…” Alfred responds absentmindedly, still wondering what’s up with Edward today. He never usually runs off in such a hurry, unless he’s angry at him. But he can’t think what he’s done to make him angry today.

“Sorry, we got a bit sidetracked there,” he says, shaking himself out of his reverie. “Anyway, shall I get you a drinks menu, Will?” 

“Oh, I’m not too fussed, as long as you give me something hot and sweet,” Will answers with a wink. “Surprise me.”

Though he can feel himself flushing a little again, Alfred meets Will’s challenging gaze head on, determined to show him that he’s not overly affected by his flirting. 

“Think we can manage something hot and sweet for this man to drink, Flo?” 

“Leave it to me,” Florence replies, sounding a little breathless. Will’s grin widens. 

“ _ Gorgeous  _ service here,” he says to Alfred. Alfred grins back, rolling his eyes a little. 

“So, how was this wonderful wedding of my father’s, Alfred Paget?” Will asks. “It would be good to get another perspective.” 

“Well, you could have come and seen it for yourself, you know!” Alfred points out. “I was rather put out when I heard you weren’t coming, I wanted to see if you actually matched up to my expectations.”

“Well, I humbly beg your pardon for being on a work trip,” Will shoots back. “To be honest, I didn’t think I was missing much at the time - but as I said, if I’d known just how witty and good looking the other wedding guests were going to be, then perhaps I might have found a way to get out of my trip.” 

“Hmm...if you say so,” Alfred responds with a grin, trying not to show Will how amused he is. 

“So,  _ have  _ I matched up to your expectations?” Will asks with a smirk. 

“Well, I...that’s beside the point,” Alfred splutters, feeling himself going red again. 

“I see,” Will replies, his smirk growing. Alfred rolls his eyes again, not wanting to admit that Will has him a little flustered. “Well then, why don’t you tell me about the wedding, so I can better understand just what I was missing?”

Alfred launches into anecdotes on the wedding reception, grinning as Will leans back in his seat to study him while he talks. He can’t help but laugh at the wry comments Will keeps interjecting with, either. It’s true, Robert  _ does  _ tend to look a little like a stuffed frog when he stands up to make serious speeches...

“Okay, now your turn,” Alfred says, still laughing a little.

“My turn?” Will echoes, sipping the spiced chai latte with cinnamon that Florence had brought to him. She’s absentmindedly wiping down the counter as she listens to Alfred and Will now, seemingly having forgotten that there are other things she should probably be doing. 

Alfred nods. 

“Tell us about this work trip that you had to miss the wedding for in the first place. Emma told me you sent them a gorgeous spice box from India. I’m jealous, I’ve never been to India - what’s it like?”

“Oh, India is stunning; it’s like a kaleidoscope of colour,” Will responds enthusiastically. “There’s nowhere else like it; the spices, the noise...the  _ heat _ …” The inflection in his voice as he says the word makes Alfred blush again. “Seriously, though, it gets so hot there that sometimes you just want to strip completely naked. In fact, I did just that once…”

“What?!” Alfred laughs, feeling his face growing hot again. 

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t in a work meeting or anything like that,” Will says, smirking as though he knows exactly what Alfred was thinking. “I had a bit of time off work so I was hiking in the desert. I was parched, so when I saw a guy coming towards me carrying a huge tank of water on his cart, I just sort of stripped off and begged him to pour some over me. Actually, I suppose I might have given the poor fellow a bit of a shock, now I come to think about it…”

Alfred laughs again, settling in to hear more of Will’s travel stories. Until Victoria comes over to spoil their fun, that is. 

“I’m glad to see you’re getting on so well with our new customer,” she says sardonically.

“Will Peel,” Will introduces himself, holding out his hand to her with a dazzling smile.

“Pleasure,” Victoria responds, without even looking at him. “But I thought you might need a reminder that we do actually have other customers to attend to as well, Alfred.” 

Florence gives a start, realising suddenly how long she’s been standing and watching the two of them, and immediately begins reorganising the display cabinet to show Victoria that she’s being productive. 

“That’s my fault, I’m afraid,” Will says, grinning at Alfred. “I was distracting him.”

Alfred flushes a little.

“Well, if you could perhaps stop distracting him now, that would be wonderful,” Victoria says coolly, before moving away. 

“Maybe she has a point,” Will sighs. He glances down at his watch. “Crap, I hadn’t realised how long I’d been sitting here already! I’d better get going, I’ve got an errand to run.”

“Oh? What are you up to?” Alfred asks.

Will sighs. 

“My father wants me to deliver something to James...Graves?” 

“James Grey, you mean?” Alfred asks amusedly

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Right...James told me the two of you met through some mutual friends in London?”

“We did, yeah, once or twice,” Will says absentmindedly, searching through his jacket pockets for his phone. 

“Right. James is lovely,” he says diplomatically. 

To his surprise, Will shrugs slightly. 

“Is he? If you say so.” 

“What, you don’t think so?” Alfred asks. 

Will shrugs again. 

“I guess I don’t know him well enough to say one way or the other, really. I’m sure he’s perfectly nice. Like I say, I’ve only met him once or twice, but he seemed a little...I don’t know, bland, I guess? Bit too goody two-shoes for my tastes.” 

“Oh,” Alfred says, trying not to grin delightedly at this refreshing assessment. 

“But anyway, I’d better get going, I did promise to run this errand,” Will sighs, taking his card out of his phone case and tapping it against the card reader that Alfred is holding out for him. 

“Okay, well - see you soon, I hope,” Alfred says, grinning at him.

“Actually, while I’ve got my phone out…” Will proffers it to him. “Fancy putting your number in for me? In case I get lost and need your help. I am new in town, after all.”

Feeling himself flushing again, Alfred takes Will’s phone. He can’t help but grin as he types his number into Will’s contacts list, even as he rolls his eyes. 

“Happy now?” he asks.

“Yep, very,” Will answers unabashedly, stretching his long limbs after having spent so long sitting down. “Well, see you around then, Alfred Paget.” 

He winks at him one last time, before strutting out of the cafe. 

Still a little dazed, Alfred moves over to help Florence. 

“Gosh, he’s something, isn’t he?” Florence whispers. 

“Yeah, he is,” Alfred agrees, still staring at the door Will had just left through. 

Funny, witty, exciting,  _ gorgeous  _ \- and he’s the only person who seems to agree with Alfred about James Grey, as well. 

It’s safe to say that Alfred definitely wouldn’t be averse to seeing a little bit more of Will Peel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Edward.... XD


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are a few unpleasant surprises in store for Alfred...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a long chapter with a looot of drama and idiocy from the boys, so buckle in XD

Alfred has never been the type to get romantically attached. 

Sure, he loves the challenge of helping his friends to find their own fairytale happily ever afters - even if he’s had one or two setbacks in that department recently - but he’s never felt any particular urge for that kind of dazzling romance himself. He wouldn’t want to sacrifice any of his independence - and it’s possible that he’s too stubborn to effectively make compromises in a relationship anyway. He’s not particularly looking to commit to anybody now, or even necessarily in the foreseeable future. He’s happy to stick to casual for the moment. 

Not that he’s actually getting any action at the moment. He hasn’t had any for quite a while, actually; he used to bring guys back to the apartment every now and then, until he realised that it made Edward pretty uncomfortable. Edward grew up in a pretty traditional and repressed environment, and although he’s been out of the closet for a long time now, he still hasn’t quite come to terms with the concept of one-night-stands. Alfred would have teased him more about his lingering prudishness, but the fact is that he hates it when Edward is upset or anxious, so...that was that, really. No more guys in the apartment. 

So it’s not like he’s looking for anything serious with Will Peel. Sure, he’s gorgeous and sexy and witty, but it’s not like his heart is yearning for him, or any crap like that. 

Still...he’d be lying if he said that Will’s attentions weren’t flattering. A little exciting, too, if he’s honest - he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have a hot guy flirting with him so openly and eagerly. The day after Will had burst into Hartfield Cafe like a whirlwind and asked for his number, Alfred had managed to accidentally-on-purpose bump into him while shopping at Ford’s in town, and it had been pretty clear that Will’s interest in him hadn’t dwindled in the slightest. In fact, Will’s flirting had been, if possible, even more forthright than before; what’s more, his report on James Grey had been pretty satisfying too. 

“So, how was James?” Alfred had asked. 

“Hmm...a bit of a letdown after meeting you, to be honest,” Will had responded bluntly. 

“ _ What _ ? What’s that supposed to mean?” Alfred had asked, giggling in shock. Not that he’d been fishing for compliments, or anything like that. 

“Well, you know, you’re  _ you _ \- cheekbones, gorgeous, hair, gorgeous, eyes, gorgeous. And he’s...James Grey. I mean, sure, he seems perfectly nice, but...he’s just so polite and  _ well-behaved _ . Seems to me that he needs to loosen up a little, y’know? Everyone in this village seems to think he’s perfect - but then, maybe there’s something he’s hiding from everyone…”

“What?!” Alfred had replied, laughing delightedly. “You can’t say things like that, Will, that’s mean!”

Will had shrugged, looking unconcerned. 

“I’m just saying, nobody is perfect. Everybody has to have  _ some  _ vices, right? Even James Grey. At least my vices are right here on the surface for everyone to see, eh?” 

He’d had the audacity to wink at Alfred right there. 

Will has continued with the flirting over text since then, and Alfred has, admittedly, been responding in kind, the two of them texting back and forth, Alfred feeling a little thrill of excitement every time his phone buzzes with a new message from Will Peel. It’s a good ego boost, if nothing else, and it’s nice to feel a little of his old confidence coming back. 

Alfred has the day off work today, so now feels like as good a time as any to take the next logical step and see if Will might be interested in a date. He figures one of them is going to make a move sooner or later, so he might as well go first. 

“Who are you texting?” Edward asks in a would-be-casual tone, sitting across from him at their little kitchen table. His brow is slightly furrowed as he asks the question, and he doesn’t look up from his book to meet Alfred’s eyes. 

“Will Peel, same as the last time you asked,” he responds. 

“Right. The two of you seem pretty chatty lately,” Edward answers, still not looking at him. 

“Yeah, well,” Alfred says with a shrug, “I thought I might see if he’s interested in going for a coffee, seeing as I’m not working today.”

“Like a date, you mean?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Alfred replies, still looking down at his phone. 

Edward is silent for a moment. 

“I see,” he says, coolly turning the page of his book, the muscle in his jaw tightening slightly. 

_ Hey Will,  _ Alfred types out,

_ I’m off work today, so I was wondering if you might be interested in catching up for a coffee this afternoon? Or if you’d prefer, we could go out to a bar this evening for something a little stronger? It would be good to spend some time getting to know each other a little better ;)  _

_ Looking forward to seeing you soon! _

_ Alfred <3 xx _

“Ok, here goes,” Alfred says, grinning a little as he sends it off.

“Good luck,” Edward says tonelessly, closing his book and walking away to the kitchen to wash his plate up, still without glancing at Alfred at all. 

“Thanks,” Alfred answers, frowning after him slightly. Edward seems to have been in a weird mood for a few days now. 

His phone lights up with a reply from Will only a few minutes later, and Alfred opens it immediately, feeling rather excited as he anticipates an outrageously flirtatious response. 

On reading the text, however, his excitement quickly ebbs, his stomach dropping a little. 

“Huh. Well, that’s a bit weird,” he says aloud. 

“What is?” Edward asks from the kitchen, sounding determinedly disinterested even as he asks the question.

_ Hey Alfred,  _ he reads aloud,

_ I’d love to see you, but unfortunately I’m not actually around in Highbury today - I’m back in London for the weekend, as I urgently needed to get a haircut. Thanks for asking me, though - I look forward to catching up when I get back! _

_ Will x _

“I don’t get it,” Alfred says, frowning. “He’s sending me mixed messages. I mean, he seemed pretty keen before, but now I’m not even clear whether he’s just telling me he’s not available  _ today _ , or whether that was supposed to be a polite rejection text…”

Edward is raising his eyebrows so high that they appear to be in danger of disappearing into his hairline. 

“He’s gone all the way back to London? Just to get a  _ haircut _ ? He does realise we have hairdressers here in the village, right? Or are the hairdressers in this uncivilised little town of ours not good enough for the likes of Will Peel?”

“Don’t be silly, Edward,” Alfred replies with a little laugh. “I expect he’s just got a regular barber in London who knows exactly what he wants. Plenty of people rely on a regular barber.” 

But Edward doesn’t seem to be listening. 

“Vain, arrogant, prick,” he mutters, seemingly more to himself than to Alfred. 

Alfred stares at him.

“I thought you said you were going to give him the benefit of the doubt,” he says.

Edward shrugs. 

“I said I would give him the benefit of the doubt and reserve judgment until after I’d met him. Well, now I’ve met him. And I’m judging him.” 

He turns back to the dishes, scrubbing them viciously as though they’ve done him a great personal wrong.

Alfred frowns at his back. 

Okay, sure, it’s kind of weird to go all the way back to London just for a haircut. But Will presumably has his reasons. 

He’s just not sure what Edward’s problem is. He seems  _ determined  _ to dislike Will Peel. 

* * *

“Hey, Alfred?” Florence asks quietly. 

“Yeah?”

“Um...is Edward...you know...okay?” 

Alfred sighs, glancing over at Edward, who’s currently sitting at the counter with his headphones on, apparently deeply absorbed in his laptop. 

He’d seemed weirdly reluctant even to come to the cafe today; when Alfred had asked him this morning if he was ready to go, he’d hesitated. 

“I mean, I’ve got a lot of work to do today, Alfred.” 

“Okay,” Alfred had responded, frowning. “Aren’t you just going to do your work at Hartfield, like you always do? I mean, you said you find it easier to focus at the cafe, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Edward had admitted reluctantly. 

“Well, then…” Alfred had replied, gesturing towards the door.

“Do you know if Will Peel is going to be there today?” Edward had asked awkwardly, still rooted to the spot. “Because, you know, he’s pretty loud...bit difficult to concentrate…” 

“No, I’m pretty sure Will won’t be coming in today,” Alfred had answered, frowning. “He said he was going to be in London for the weekend, remember?” 

“Right,” Edward had replied, rolling his eyes. 

“I mean, you don’t  _ have _ to come to the cafe today, obviously,” Alfred had said tentatively. “But I’d like you to come. You know work is much more fun when you’re there.” 

At those words, Edward’s expression had cleared a little. 

“Fine,” he’d said, caving with a small sigh. “Let me just get my laptop bag…”

But at this point, Alfred’s not even sure there’s any point in him having dragged Edward here. Not if he’s just going to sit there with his headphones on so it’s impossible to talk to him, making non-committal noises without even looking up from his laptop whenever Alfred says anything to him, looking so sulky that even Victoria had muttered “Jeez, Alfred, did you pee in his cornflakes?” as she walked past. 

“I’m not really sure what’s up with him, to be honest, Flo,” Alfred mutters now in response to Florence’s question, as she gazes concernedly at Edward. “He’s been in this weird mood for a few days now.” 

“Shall I check…?” she asks awkwardly.

“No, don’t worry, I’ll do it,” Alfred says with another sigh.

He moves towards Edward, starting to feel a little irritated with his best friend now. This just isn’t like him. Normally, if Edward’s annoyed at him, he tells him  _ why _ . If he’s got a problem now then, as far as Alfred is concerned, he can either spit it out or stop moping around. 

He reaches out to poke Edward in the arm.

Edward jumps slightly and glares at him, finally taking his headphones off.

_ “What?”  _

Alfred opens his mouth to respond; but before he can say anything, the bell above the cafe door tinkles, and both of them instinctively turn to see who the newcomer is. 

A very familiar tall brunette woman strides into the cafe, smugly tossing her long dark curls over her shoulder, smirking as she tugs a tall blond man in her wake. 

Alfred barely suppresses a groan, feeling a horrible sinking sensation in his stomach. What with Will Peel’s flirting and mixed messages, along with Edward’s weird mood, he’d almost completely forgotten that Pippa Elton was coming back to Highbury with her new fiance in tow. 

He exchanges a silent glance with Edward, who looks back at him in wide-eyed concern. Pippa’s arrival seems to have momentarily distracted him from his sulky mood, at least. 

Alfred glances over to see Florence’s reaction - she seems to have frozen on the spot, staring at Pippa and the blond man at her side, looking as though she would like nothing better than to sink through the floor. Instinctively, Alfred moves closer to her, as though to shield her from Pippa. 

“I told you it’s a sweet little cafe, didn’t I?” Pippa says to her fiance. “Not what you’d call  _ sophisticated _ , of course, but…”

“It’s a quaint little place,” he replies. “But I’m sure it could be lovely - with a bit of renovation, that is.” 

“Well, hello there, Pippa,” Alfred says, forcing a smile through gritted teeth. Better to get the niceties over with quickly. 

Pippa gives a dramatic little jump, widening her eyes exaggeratedly as though she’s somehow surprised to see him there, despite the fact that he’s  _ always  _ working in the cafe, and she knows that full well. 

“Well, if it isn’t Alfred Paget!” she says. “Long time, no see!”

“And how we’ve missed you,” Alfred responds, smiling at her sweetly even as he loads his tone with as much sarcasm as he can muster. Edward shoots him a warning look, which Alfred chooses to ignore. “But it seems like you’ve been pretty busy since the last time we saw you,” he adds, with a pointed glance at her fiance. 

Anger flashes across Pippa’s face for a moment, but a moment later she forces her expression back into a smug smile, evidently deciding not to take the bait. 

“Well, you know how I am, Alfred, always moving onwards and  _ upwards _ ,” she replies pointedly. She places her hand possessively across her fiance’s chest, carefully ensuring that her huge engagement ring is on full display. “Alfred, this is my  _ gorgeous  _ fiance, Alex Hawkins. Alex, this is my old friend, Alfred Paget. We go way back, don’t we, Alfred?” 

“Pleasure,” says Alex, stretching out a hand. Alfred shakes it reluctantly. 

“Well, I’m not sure I’d call us  _ old friends _ , exactly,” Alfred responds. “But then, I suppose I don’t form attachments quite as quickly as you do, Pippa.” 

He smiles sweetly at her as her expression flickers with annoyance again, and Edward gives him another warning look. Before she can make a retort, Alfred turns back to Alex Hawkins. 

“But anyway, lovely to meet you at last, Alex,” he says. “This is my wonderful friend Florence Kerr.” He gestures to her, encouraging her to step forwards a little. 

“You remember I told you about  _ dear _ little Florence?” Pippa says, smirking as she looks at Alex. Florence flushes and looks down at the floor, as Alex smiles patronisingly at her as if she were a six-year-old. 

“And this here is my best friend and roommate Edward Drummond,” Alfred adds hastily. 

Edward dutifully pastes on a smile as he gets up to shake Alex’s hand. 

“Ah yes, Pips told me about you,” Alex says with a grin. “Apparently, you and Alfred are basically attached at the hip and he can’t function without you! How are you doing, Eddie?” 

Alfred feels the painful fake smile slide off his face as he stares at Alex in shock. 

“Fine, thanks very much,” Edward responds, his polite smile still fixed firmly in place. 

“Good, good,” Alex replies, exchanging another smirk with Pippa. 

“So what can I get you two?” Alfred asks abruptly. “Do you need to see the menu, or are we just going to stand here chatting?”   
Alex looks a little taken aback at this brusqueness, but frankly Alfred doesn’t really give a shit right now. He wants them both gone sooner rather than later.

“Large black coffee, right, babe?” Alex asks, looking down at Pippa. She beams up at him. 

“You know me so well,” she coos, pulling at the front of his shirt and leaning up a little to kiss him passionately. 

Alex responds rather enthusiastically, and Alfred exchanges a silent grimace with Edward. Do they  _ really _ have to stick their tongues so far down each other’s throats in the middle of the bloody cafe?

He clears his throat pointedly, and the two of them break apart with a noise like a plug being pulled. 

“Sorry,” Alex says, not looking or sounding at all apologetic. “But you know how it is when you’re newly engaged.”

“ _ Very  _ newly engaged,” Alfred mutters under his breath. Edward shoots him another look. 

“Anyway, yes, two large black coffees, please,” Alex says to Alfred. 

“But we’ll have to make them takeaway,” Pippa adds with a sweet, fake smile. “I wanted to show this place to Alex so he could get a bit more of a feel for it, but we’re both very busy people, and of course we’re even busier than usual at the moment, so unfortunately we really do have to dash.”

“ _ What _ a shame,” Alfred replies sweetly. 

Pippa glares at him for a moment, before hastily smiling and giving a little chiming laugh, as though determined to show Alfred that she’s completely unaffected by him. 

Alfred turns to the coffee machine, attempting to make the coffees at super speed. Behind him, he hears Alex asking Edward about his job.

“I’m a political journalist,” Edward answers. “I usually write my columns here in the cafe.”

“Ah, well that makes sense,” Alex answers smugly. “Like Pips told me - gotta keep an eye on Alfred here to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, right, Eddie?” 

Alex and Pippa both laugh, as Alfred stands there silently seething, willing the coffee machine to work faster. 

“And what do you do, Alex?” Edward asks hastily, sounding as though he’s desperately trying to change the topic. 

“Funny you should ask,” Pippa answers, with another irritating little chiming laugh. “Alex’s family are in the hospitality management business - in fact, they’ve just recently bought the company that owns this very cafe! We’re actually planning on using this place as a venue for our engagement party in a month or so - after all, it technically belongs to Alex now!”

“It will belong to both of us soon enough, babe,” says Alex.

“Good point,” Pippa responds, sounding ridiculously smug. 

“...Oh,” Edward says awkwardly, sounding rather taken aback.

Alfred turns around, practically slamming their coffees down on the counter. 

“Here. Two large black coffees to go,” he says shortly. 

“Goodness, Alfred,” Pippa says, with another chiming laugh. “I was just telling Alex how fabulous the customer service is here. We wouldn’t want to let that slip, would we? Alex and I certainly wouldn’t want any customers being discouraged from enjoying their experience in  _ our _ lovely little cafe.” 

Alfred glares at her as Alex taps his card against the card reader, smirking at his fiance’s fabulous wit. 

“Well, anyway, nice to meet you Alex, and to see you again, Pippa,” Edward says hastily, casting a concerned glance in Alfred’s direction. 

“And the same to you,” Alex says with a grin. 

“Oh, before I forget,” Pippa says as she wraps an arm around Alex’s waist. “Alex and I are planning on having a little party next weekend, so keep your calendars clear.” 

“Another party on top of your engagement party, you mean?” Alfred asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Well, of course,” Pippa replies, giving him a patronising smile as though he’s mentally deficient. “We’re moving into a new house together, so we’ve got to have a housewarming party - and most people in Highbury haven’t met this gorgeous man yet, so I’m dying to show him off to everybody. It’s such a wonderful feeling, knowing that you’ve put your past behind you and finally found somebody who suits you and who’s actually  _ good enough _ for you, don’t you think, Alfred?” 

“Well, let us know the details,” Edward says quickly, stepping in before Alfred can act on his strong impulse to swear at Pippa.

“Of course,” Pippa says, flashing him a dazzling smile. “Well, as I said, we must dash. See you soon, Alfred, Edward.” 

She looks straight past Florence as though she doesn’t exist.

“Nice to meet you, Alfred, Florence,” says Alex. He claps Edward on the shoulder cheerfully, making him wince slightly. “Take care, Eddie!” 

Both smirking, the pair of them saunter out of the door hand in hand. 

The bell tinkles as the door closes behind them. Alfred stands there, staring after them, boiling with rage. He doesn’t even know where to start.

Edward turns to him. He seems to have forgotten about his sulky mood, at least for the moment, gazing at Alfred in concern.

“Alf - “ he says gently. 

_ “Eddie?!!”  _

* * *

“Alf...” Edward starts tentatively later that evening, glancing over at Alfred where he’s lying on the sofa. 

Alfred looks up from the uni reading he’s struggling through.

“What?” he asks, a little more waspishly than he intended. It’s been a long day.

“Pippa just posted the event for their housewarming party on Facebook,” Edward says awkwardly, turning his phone screen towards Alfred to show him. “I just...I thought you might appreciate having a heads up before you logged in and saw it for yourself.”

Immediately, Alfred feels all of his fury from earlier boiling towards the surface again. 

“Well, I’m not going to her stupid housewarming party,” he says, scowling. “She only wants us to come so she can have another opportunity to be a smug, passive aggressive cow, showing off her rich and obnoxious new boy toy who just so  _ happens  _ to own the cafe I work at, trying to make me feel shitty about myself and convince me that I somehow made a huge mistake by not dating her. Why would I give her the satisfaction of going to this thing? She can fuck right off if she thinks I’m going to come. In fact,” he says, sitting up and impulsively grabbing and unlocking his own phone, “I’m going to click ‘Not Attending’ right now, and I’ll tell her she can shove her stupid invitation up her butt.” 

“Alfred,” Edward says, “please don’t go picking a fight -”

“Why the hell shouldn’t I?” he protests. “She was  _ horrible  _ to me earlier, Edward!”

“She was being pretty nasty,” Edward agrees. “But I don’t want you to let her get to you, Alf…”

Alfred snorts derisively.

“She’s not  _ getting to me _ , Edward, I just want to bloody well give her a piece of my mind, that’s all!”

“Can you just be careful?” Edward asks quietly. “I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

Alfred frowns down at his phone.

“You said this thing was on Facebook, right?” 

“Yeah,” Edward responds, looking puzzled. “Wait, you didn’t unfriend her on Facebook, did you?” 

Alfred shakes his head. “Just on Instagram, I never got round to Facebook. How did you find this stupid thing, anyway?” 

“Well, it was just right there in my notifications,” Edward replies, frowning slightly. “Check your events page, it should just come up.” 

Alfred clicks over to the events page, scrolling quickly through it. 

“I can’t see it anywhere.”

“Are you sure?” Edward asks.

“Of course I’m sure,” he huffs. “Wait,” he says, a rather unwelcome thought occurring to him. “Let me see the event, Edward.”

He holds out his hand for Edward’s phone. Obediently, Edward hands it over, tentatively coming to sit next to him on the sofa and look over his shoulder. 

“Well, that would explain why I can’t find it anywhere on my account,” Alfred says after a moment, with a short, hollow laugh. “I’m not invited, Edward. My name isn’t on the guest list.” 

“Wait, what?” Edward asks, looking stunned. “What do you mean, you’re not invited? You must be invited!”

“Well, I’m not,” Alfred says with a shrug, shoving his phone back at him. “See for yourself. You probably should have double checked that before telling me about it.” 

Edward scrolls for a moment, before looking back up at Alfred, eyes wide. 

“Pippa must have just forgotten to add you to the guest list,” he says. “She wouldn’t have deliberately decided not to invite you.”

“Wouldn’t she?” Alfred asks doubtfully, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well...she wouldn’t have mentioned her party in front of you if she knew she wasn’t planning on inviting you...would she?” Edward asks, sounding rather uncertain. 

Alfred lets out another hollow laugh. 

“I think you might be giving her entirely too much credit, Edward,” he replies. “Not everybody is as lovely as you, you know.” 

Edward looks at him, guilt written across his face. 

“I’m sorry, Alf, I’m an idiot,” he says. “I should have checked more carefully before bringing it up.” 

Alfred shrugs.

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” he says shortly. 

A moment later, his own phone lights up with a loud buzzing noise, making him jump. Turning to check it, he wonders for a moment if it’s just a late notification for the event, if Pippa really had just forgotten him for a few minutes. 

But it’s from Florence. 

_ Hey Alfred, _

_ I just got a message from Mina asking me if I was coming to Pippa and Alex’s housewarming thing, and saying she’d really love to see me there. I don’t know if I should say yes, or if I should try and make some excuse to get out of it...I mean, last time I ran into Mina, it was a little bit awkward, and I don’t really know where we’re at. I mean, are we just friends? Does she still have a thing for me? Is she still upset with me for rejecting her?  _

_ I don’t want to be rude by turning the invitation down - and I don’t want Mina to get upset and think I’m trying to avoid her or anything like that.  _

_ I guess I’ll be fine as long as I stick with you at the party though, right? I’m sure you’ll make sure I don’t make too much of an idiot of myself! _

_ Florence x _

“Oh, come  _ on! _ ” Alfred says, seething. 

“What?” Edward asks tentatively.

“Apparently Flo has been invited to this stupid thing too,” he mutters. “ _ And  _ Mina, for some reason. Looks like it’s just me.” 

He types a quick response, not feeling particularly in the mood to chat or steer Florence through her panic right now. 

_ Hey Flo, _

_ I’m not actually invited to Pippa’s thing, so I won’t be much use. But you go, there’s no need to duck out just because Mina will be there. I’m sure it won’t be awkward and I’m sure she’s not upset with you. If you need any moral support on the night, Edward will be there.  _

_ Have fun for me.  _

_ Alfred x _

“Alright, well, I’ve had a long day,” Alfred says, getting up from the sofa without looking at Edward. “I think I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Alf,” Edward says quietly. “You okay?” 

“Course I am,” he answers shortly. “You know I had no desire to go to Pippa Bloody Elton’s stupid party anyway. So...whatever. I don’t care. See you in the morning, Edward.”

He stomps off to his room and slams the door behind him before Edward can respond.

* * *

Although he wouldn’t admit it to Edward, Alfred keeps going back to Facebook, checking his notifications on the off chance that an invitation to Pippa’s event has suddenly popped up. Three days later, though, he is still very definitely not invited. 

Whenever Edward looks at him in concern, Alfred is loudly insistent that he doesn’t give a shit and he wasn’t going to go to the stupid party anyway. But he can never admit the truth to Edward - that he’s been catching himself half-hoping Pippa  _ has _ just forgotten his invitation, that she’s going to hastily invite him as soon as she remembers. Every time he checks his notifications again and sees there’s still no invitation, he feels anger, hurt and mortification coursing through him. 

He’s not even sure  _ why  _ it should affect him so much - after all, he can’t  _ stand  _ Pippa Elton, now that he knows what she’s really like. He’s not too keen on her new fiance either, for that matter - strutting around the place, gloating about owning the cafe even though he’d never set foot in the village until three days ago, thinking that his engagement to Pippa automatically makes him a member of their community and gives him the right to call Edward  _ Eddie _ as though they’re best pals. 

Alfred knows that not being invited to this stupid thing  _ shouldn’t  _ bother him - but the fact is, it seems like practically everybody else in Highbury has been invited to this party. And, well...he can’t remember ever being blatantly excluded like this before. 

He knows Edward doesn’t believe his assurances that he’s fine for a second, of course. As he lies on the couch, scrolling on his phone, having just checked his Facebook notifications for about the tenth time today, he can feel Edward’s worried gaze on him over the top of his book. 

Alfred jumps slightly as his phone buzzes loudly in his hand and lights up with a new text. Seeing immediately that it’s from Will, he opens and reads it immediately. 

“For  _ fuck’s  _ sake,” he hisses through his teeth a moment later. 

“What is it?” Edward asks quickly.

“ _ Hey there Alfred Paget,” _ he reads aloud,  _ “I assume I’m going to see you at the housewarming party this weekend that everybody’s going on about? I have not heard the most wonderful of things about this Pippa Elton woman, but apparently as the whole of Highbury is going I am obligated to make an appearance and pay my regards to the charming host and hostess. I know I missed you a few days ago when I was back in London, but now I’ve returned, I hope we’ll be able to hit the drinks together at this thing? Get to know each other a little better, perhaps? Can’t wait to have a chat ;) _

_ Will xx”.  _

Edward’s expression has turned stony. 

“Will Peel is invited to this thing, too?” he asks, sounding as though he’s struggling to keep his tone neutral. 

“ _ Everybody’s  _ invited to this thing, Edward!” Alfred says bitterly. “Everybody except me, that is...hold up, let me send him a quick reply…”

_ Hey Will _ , he taps out. 

_ That sounds like a gorgeous plan - but unfortunately, we’re not likely to get much of a chance to chat at the housewarming party, as I don’t appear to have been invited. Pippa Elton and I don’t exactly see eye to eye. Long story.  _

_ But I’d still love to catch up and ‘get to know you better’, as you say. Maybe we can make up our date on another day? _

_ Have fun for me at this thing - don’t do anything I wouldn’t do ;)  _

_ Alfred xx _

“There, sent,” he says shortly, tapping the send button. “I hope he has a fabulous time at this thing, along with everybody else in this town.”

Alfred tucks his knees up under him on the couch, resting his head on his arms so Edward can’t see his expression. 

“Alf…” Edward comes to sit next to him tentatively.

“‘I’m fine, Edward,” he says loudly, without looking up. 

Edward is silent for a moment. 

“No you’re not,” he says quietly.

Alfred raises his head off his knees to meet Edward’s eyes. 

“Okay, fine, I’m not,” he huffs, furious at himself as he blinks back tears. “I mean, it would be one thing if nobody I cared about was going! But I mean, you’re invited, and Flo’s invited, and  _ Will’s  _ invited - and he wants to spend the evening with me, Edward! He wants to get to know me better! But I’m the only one in this whole bloody town that Pippa hates enough to deliberately exclude, apparently - so I guess I’ll just sit here by myself while everybody else enjoys themselves, shall I?” 

Feeling fresh tears of fury and hurt welling up in his eyes, he puts his head back down on his arms again.

Edward rubs his hand gently and reassuringly up and down Alfred’s back. 

“We still don’t know, Alf, it might have been a mistake…”

He huffs disbelievingly, even as he instinctively leans back into Edward’s warm touch. 

“It is  _ not  _ a mistake, Edward. You know that as well as I do. She’s just being a bitch.”

Edward hesitates. 

“I guess I just find it hard to believe that anybody would deliberately be this nasty to you.” He pauses, as though he’s not sure what to say. “I’m sorry, Alf.” 

Alfred sighs and shrugs.

“Yeah, well…” he replies gloomily. 

His phone buzzes and lights up again. Alfred looks down to read a new text from Will. 

_Seriously, she hasn’t invited you? What the hell?! But you can’t miss this thing, everybody’s_ _going_ \- _and besides, I was SO looking forward to seeing you!_

_ Don’t worry, though, Alfred Paget - William Peel is, as ever, at your service ;) _

_ I’ll find a way to get through to this so-called ‘charming hostess’ - I shall not stand for this outrageous travesty of justice!! _

_ Xx _

Alfred huffs a reluctant laugh. 

“Good luck with that,” he mutters. 

“What?” Edward asks. 

“Will reckons he can be my knight in shining armour and make Pippa come around,” he says, rolling his eyes slightly to deflect from how flattered he is by Will’s outrage on his behalf. “I mean, I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s not very feasible, is it?” 

Edward’s expression is rather difficult to read.

“But you’d appreciate it if he  _ did _ manage to change her mind?”

“Well, yeah, that would be lovely and very valiant,” Alfred says, shrugging with a small smile. “But it won’t work.” 

Edward doesn’t answer, looking deep in thought.

“Anyway, I’m gonna clean up and head to bed, I think,” he says, hoping his voice sounds a bit steadier as he stands up, stretching and rubbing his eyes. “Night, Edward. Thank you for being lovely.” 

* * *

  
  


By this point, Alfred is long past the point of expecting an invite. He supposes he’ll just sit in the apartment with a book - and most likely a lot of wine - while Edward and Florence and Will are all enjoying themselves. What else can he do? 

So when he’s idly looking at his phone the next morning in bed, he gets rather a surprise when he tentatively checks his Facebook notifications (he can’t help hoping just a tiny bit, even now) and suddenly...there it is. There, finally, is an invitation to Pippa and Alex’s housewarming party, sitting in his notifications as though it’s been there the whole time. 

Alfred sits there, staring at the invite. He lets out a stunned laugh. He has no clue _ why  _ it’s suddenly appeared, what it was that finally made Pippa cave in - but he can’t deny that he feels a surge of relief.

And Will, he thinks, grinning to himself with a little rush of excitement - he won’t have to sit home and miss seeing Will anymore!

_ Will _ , he texts quickly,

_ I don’t know why, but apparently I  _ am  _ invited now - the invitation has suddenly appeared out of nowhere!! _

_ Alfred xx _

His phone lights up with a reply scarcely two minutes later. 

_ Hell yes you’re invited now!! See, told you that William Peel was at your service. I have magical powers.  _

_ See you there, pretty boy ;)  _

_ Will <3 xx _

Alfred can’t stop grinning to himself as he puts his dressing gown on and heads out to the kitchen, following the delicious smell wafting from that direction. He  _ isn’t  _ going to have to sit home alone on Saturday night, and Will appears to have somehow pulled some strings for him, and he’s sounding pretty keen again -  _ and  _ Edward appears to have fallen back on his habit of cooking him breakfast to cheer him up. At this moment, it’s difficult to remember just how shitty he’d felt when he went to bed last night. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Edward greets him. “I made pancakes to cheer you up - but from the look on your face, seems like maybe you don’t need them anymore.”

“You know me, Edward, I  _ always  _ need pancakes,” Alfred says, still grinning. 

“Well you certainly look a lot happier than when you went to bed last night. So, what happened?” 

“I don’t know how or why,” Alfred says with a little laugh, “but I happened to check my notifications when I woke up, and all of a sudden the invitation was just sitting there, as though it had always been there!”

Edward grins widely, though he doesn’t look quite as surprised as Alfred had expected him to.

“Funny how that happens sometimes,” he says mildly, turning away so Alfred can’t see the expression on his face.

“Maybe you were right after all, and she  _ did  _ just forget,” he says jokingly with a shrug. 

“Maybe,” Edward replies with another little grin, sliding a stack of pancakes onto a plate for Alfred. “So, are you going to accept the invitation? Are you going to come?” 

Alfred hesitates slightly. Okay, yes, so he did swear that he wasn’t going to give Pippa Elton the satisfaction of coming to her stupid party. And if he’s only been belatedly invited because Will pulled some strings, then he’s going to have to swallow a whole lot of pride to be able to show his face there. 

But on the other hand, if he  _ doesn’t  _ go, he’ll be sitting here alone as he’d originally dreaded, and he’ll miss spending an evening with his best friend. Not to mention, he might miss the opportunity to get to know Will Peel a bit better…and Will might think him terribly ungrateful, or even disinterested, if he didn’t show up after all that...

He sighs.

“Yeah,” he says, deciding that if he’s going to have to swallow his pride, he may as well start now. “I’m gonna come.” 

* * *

Despite his excitement at the prospect of flirting with Will some more, Alfred feels distinctly awkward and hesitant as he stands at Pippa’s front door on Saturday night, Florence and Victoria at his side, both of them casting him looks that are a little too close to sympathetic for his liking. 

Alfred knows he would feel less nervous and small if Edward was standing with him, too - his best friend has a remarkable gift for making him feel calmer without even saying anything, just with his presence. He’d assumed that Edward would be coming with them, driving Alfred and Florence after work. But Edward hasn’t been at the cafe at all today - apparently he’d had some project that Robert wanted him to come into the office for - so Victoria had ended up giving him and Florence a lift to Pippa’s instead. Alfred knows that Edward will be here soon - though he’d just sent a text saying he was running a bit late - but still, it feels weird standing here without him at his side. 

Victoria rings the doorbell before Alfred can gather his thoughts properly, and the door opens scarcely a moment later to reveal Pippa, wearing a tight dark green dress with a plunging neckline. Alfred can’t help but wince slightly as her outfit gives him a vivid flashback to the night of his and Edward’s Christmas party last year. He had imagined plenty of scenarios unfolding in the aftermath of that fateful evening - but it’s safe to say that  _ this  _ situation definitely wasn’t one of them. 

“Welcome, welcome,” Pippa says with a dazzling smile.

“Congratulations on the new place, Pippa,” Victoria replies, giving her a small smile in return. “Here.” She proffers a bottle of wine with a ribbon around it. 

“Congratulations, Pippa,” Florence mumbles, holding out a box of chocolates towards her, looking down as though she’s scared of meeting Pippa’s gaze. 

“Why, thank you, you’re both very sweet,” Pippa says, taking the wine and chocolate with an affected little chiming laugh. “Ah, and there’s Alfred Paget too, skulking behind you!”

“Pippa,” he says shortly. 

“But where’s your beloved Edward Drummond?” she asks innocently. “Run off, has he?”

Alfred struggles to fight back the wave of fury that erupts at the sight of her smirk, trying his best to keep his expression neutral. Why did he come to this stupid thing, again?

“No,” he replies, “Edward’s coming separately.”

Pippa’s smirk widens, and she glances down briefly, seeing that his hands are stuffed in his pockets. They’re currently balled into fists, but she doesn’t need to know that. 

“You know, Alfred, it’s traditional at a housewarming party for guests to bring a gift for their hosts.” 

“Oh, is it?” he asks innocently, forcing his face into a sweetly ‘innocent’ smile to mirror hers. “Silly me.” He shrugs. “Guess it must have just  _ slipped my mind _ .” 

He smirks in satisfaction as Pippa’s false smile vanishes. Without waiting for a response, he pushes past her, walking down the corridor towards the living room, noticing as he walks in that every single piece of furniture and decor in this house looks ridiculously expensive, not to mention ostentatiously placed to show that fact off as much as possible. 

“Ah, Alfred,” Alex says jovially on catching sight of him, holding out his hand. 

“Yeah, hi, congrats,” Alfred mutters without shaking the hand he’s proffering. He’s busy looking around the room for the man he came to see. 

“There you are, I’ve been waiting for you,” says a deep, amused voice, surprisingly close to his ear. Alfred jumps, turning to see that Will Peel has somehow managed to sneak up on him. 

“Glad you could make it, gorgeous,” Will says, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek with a slight smirk. Alfred grins, blushing slightly. 

Alex, he notices, wrinkles his nose a little and pointedly moves a bit further away from the two of them, which seems a bit rich considering the way he and Pippa were shoving their tongues down each other's throats in the middle of the cafe the other day. Alfred supposes Alex probably thinks that being any sexuality other than straight might be catching.

Ignoring Alex completely, Alfred moves closer to Will, his gaze roving over him appreciatively. He’d forgotten just how attractive this man was. 

“What are you staring at, pray tell?” Will asks. The smirking edge to his voice tells Alfred that Will knows  _ exactly  _ what he’s thinking. But Alfred’s not going to give him the satisfaction of spelling it out.

“Huh. So you really did go all the way to London to cut your hair, then?” he asks, glancing at Will’s newly short locks. 

“Well, of course I did!” Will replies with a grin. “What, did you think I was lying?” 

“No,” Alfred says, with a little laugh. “It was just a weirdly long way to travel for a haircut, that’s all.”

Will shrugs with a grin.

“What can I say, my barber in London is pretty fabulous.”

“I must confess I miss the ponytail a bit,” Alfred says. “But the new hair certainly suits you.” 

“Why, thank you, m’lord,” Will says, smirking again as he gives him a little mock bow.

“No. Thank  _ you,  _ Will,” Alfred replies seriously. 

Will frowns, looking puzzled.

“For what?” 

“For getting me an invite for tonight, of course,” Alfred responds. “I’ve no clue how you managed to persuade our Charming Hostess - but thank you.”

“Oh, that,” Will says after a beat, grinning. “You’re welcome.” 

“So, how have you been enjoying yourself so far?” he asks. 

Will grimaces a little. 

“Well, let’s just say I’m bloody glad you’re here now, Alfred,” he responds. 

“Oh, why?” Alfred asks with a grin. 

“I’ve been practically gagging for somebody  _ interesting  _ to talk to,” Will replies. “Or at least somebody who isn’t a stuck-up asshole. Nobody warned me what a piece of work this Pippa Elton is,” Will mutters in an undertone. “And her fiance doesn’t seem much better. Plus, there are certain other people at this party that I’d rather avoid, if at all possible.” 

Alfred frowns slightly.

“Like who?”

“Ah, so you two have finally met, I see!” says a familiar, booming voice. 

Alfred turns to see Robert and Emma approaching them arm in arm, Robert beaming at the sight of them. Will, on the other hand, seems less than thrilled at the notion of interacting with his father; he gives a small sigh, quiet enough so that only Alfred can hear him. 

“Too late,” he mutters.

“How are you, Alfred, my boy?” Robert booms, holding his hand out. 

“I’m pretty good, thanks, Robert,” Alfred answers, shaking his hand and trying not to look too amused at the expression on Will’s face. 

“I’m glad to see that you’ve finally managed to meet my son,” he continues jovially, apparently completely oblivious to said son’s irritation. “I’m sure you’ll be a good influence on him, eh? Tell me, is he managing to behave himself?” 

“Oh, just about,” Alfred responds, grinning up at Will. 

Will smiles mechanically at his father. 

“I’m behaving perfectly fine, Dad. Alfred here is helping me understand the ins and outs of this town. I’m kind of parched, actually, Alfred - want to come and find the drinks with me? See you later, Dad.” 

He pulls Alfred over to the drinks table with him before he can say anything.

“God, I’m sorry about him,” Will mutters, rolling his eyes. 

“It’s alright,” Alfred replies, grinning. “He doesn’t annoy  _ me. _ ”

Will grimaces.

“White or red?” he asks, picking up a glass.

“White, thanks.” 

“Anyway, as I was saying, thank god you’re here,” Will says, grinning as he pours Alfred a glass. “I didn’t much fancy trying to make civil conversation with Miss Elton over there for the rest of the night.” 

“Well, it looks like the illustrious James Grey is running late this evening as well,” Pippa says loudly, clearly eager to draw the attention of everyone in the room. “Just as well, I suppose, it gives us a chance to catch up a little in the meantime. Did you hear about James Grey’s  _ secret admirer _ , Victoria?” 

Despite himself, Alfred turns to stare at Pippa, listening hard. Gossip? Scandal? About James Perfect Grey? 

“‘Secret admirer’?” Victoria repeats, frowning slightly. “What are you talking about?” 

“Well,” Pippa replies, looking gleeful that everybody is focused on her, “a little birdy told me that James was desperately in need of a new guitar, but he couldn’t afford to shell out. But then, out of the blue, he got sent a  _ ridiculously  _ expensive and high quality guitar - and apparently, it was completely anonymous!” 

“But why would anybody send a gift like that anonymously?” Emma asks. 

“Well, I’m not one to gossip,” Pippa says smugly. “But the rumour is that the guitar was sent by his ‘friend’ from London, Anna Dixon.” 

“Anna Dixon?” Alfred repeats, the cogs in his brain whirring as he thinks back to Mina’s droning on about James’s London adventures. “But isn’t she the one who’s dating James’s friend? Ollie Campbell?”

“Well, yes - hence why Anna sent her expensive present to James  _ anonymously _ , Alfred,” Pippa says slowly, giving him a patronising smirk. 

Alfred turns back to Will, feeling a grin spreading across his face. 

Okay, fine, he  _ knows  _ he shouldn’t be engaging with gossip like this. But...could it really be true? James Grey, busy having a covert affair with his best friend’s girlfriend, while everyone in Highbury goes around singing his praises? 

“What do you think?” he murmurs excitedly to Will. “James Grey, of all people, having an affair? With his friend’s girlfriend? Do you think it could be true?” 

Will grins back at him, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. 

“It’s possible,” he says with a shrug, his face the picture of innocence. “Like I said, there’s got to be  _ something _ under the surface there. I mean, nobody’s  _ that  _ perfect, right?”

“But nobody would spend that much money on James unless he was  _ really  _ important to them, right?” Alfred muses. 

Will smirks slightly.

“Good point.” 

Grinning, Alfred opens his mouth to speculate further - it’s just harmless curiosity, after all. But he’s distracted by glimpsing a familiar shock of brown curls; apparently, Edward has finally arrived. 

Alfred turns to grin at his best friend from the other side of the room - but he stops short, rather taken aback to see that Edward hasn’t arrived alone as he expected. He seems to have walked in with James Grey himself. 

Alfred frowns a little. Well, that’s new. Sure, he knows that Edward has never had a problem with James in the same way  _ he  _ has - but he certainly hadn’t mentioned that he was going to be turning up to this party with him. Not that it particularly matters, Alfred supposes. It’s just kind of a surprise. 

Edward turns to look at him and Alfred raises a hand to wave, but Edward’s face turns stony at the sight of Will. Rather than waving back, Edward gives Alfred a small, tight smile that doesn’t seem to reach his eyes, turning back to chat to James. As Alfred watches, Emma wanders up to join James and Edward’s conversation. 

“Huh, that’s weird,” Alfred murmurs, mostly to himself. 

“What is?” Will asks. 

“I just didn’t know that Edward and James were coming to this thing together. Edward didn’t mention.” He shrugs. “I didn’t really realise they’d been hanging out, that’s all.” 

Will grins slightly as he sips his wine.

“Well, they both seem sensible, responsible, quiet, diligent. They probably have a lot to talk about. Maybe they’re exchanging tips on the best ways to fold their socks neatly.” 

Alfred forces a laugh. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

“Although actually,” Will adds, lowering his glass, his smirk growing wider, “if we were right in our theorising, and James Grey is actually in the middle of a torrid affair with a woman in a relationship, then perhaps he’s  _ not  _ quite so sensible and responsible as he seems. In fact, perhaps James is having a corrupting influence on poor innocent Drummond, even as we speak!”

Alfred grins at Will’s dramatically scandalised expression. 

“Possible,” he answers, pretending to look thoughtful. 

“You know what? I think I’m gonna go and have a little chat with James right now and see if I can uncover the truth,” Will says, a delightedly mischievous expression suffusing his face. “Secret agent style.”

“Wait, what?” Alfred asks, alarmed. A bit of harmless gossip is one thing, but if James were to catch on about their musings… “Will, what are you doing?!”

“Oh, don’t worry, Alfred Paget,” Will says airily, quickly draining his glass and putting it down on the table behind them. “I’ll be very discreet.” 

He gives Alfred a wink and, before Alfred can stop him, he bounds off across the room to join Edward and James.

Alfred stares after him, still feeling a little uneasy as he watches Will break into their conversation without a moment’s hesitation. He has no clue what Will is playing at right now. Why would he even  _ hint  _ to James that they’ve been talking about him? And why would Will just leave him standing here by himself, after everything he’d done to ensure he got an invite to this stupid thing? 

Seeing that Alfred is now standing alone, Emma Peel breaks away from the three men and wends her way across the room to join him. 

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” she asks, smiling at him. 

“I’m fine, thanks, Em,” he responds. She raises an eyebrow slightly, and Alfred struggles to repress a sigh. He should know better than to try to lie to Emma. Damn her for always being able to see through him so well. 

“Just having a bit of a weird evening, that’s all,” he says with a shrug. 

“Will’s looking handsome with his new haircut, isn’t he?” she says with a smile.

“ _ Very  _ handsome,” Alfred agrees with a grin. 

“And Edward’s looking pretty handsome this evening, too,” she adds. 

Alfred frowns slightly at this, tilting his head as he studies Edward, who’s currently looking thoroughly uncomfortable as Will, grinning as though he’s having the time of his life, slings one arm over him and one over James. 

“What? Don’t you think he’s looking handsome?” Emma asks.

“No, I do,” Alfred answers, feeling suddenly a little wrong-footed. “But Edward always looks handsome. I guess I’m just more used to it.”

Emma hums. 

“He didn’t mention he was coming with James to this thing, though,” he adds offhandedly. 

“Apparently James’s car broke down this evening,” Emma informs him. “James was explaining to me just now; it seems he called Edward when it happened, and Edward immediately drove over so that he could give him a lift here tonight. That’s why he was running late.”

“Oh,” Alfred says, a little taken aback. “Well, I guess that tracks. Edward does do that kind of thing.” He looks over at him fondly. “He’s just lovely like that.” 

“Mm,” Emma says noncommittally.

“What?” Alfred asks, frowning at her. 

“Well, Edward  _ is  _ lovely, of course,” she says slowly. “But I’m not entirely sure that’s all there is to it.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alfred asks, staring at her in bewilderment. 

“Well,” Emma replies in an undertone. “You know I’m not usually one for gossip. But I’m starting to think that perhaps our Edward has developed some feelings for James Grey. More-than-friendly feelings, I mean.” 

“ _ What?”  _ Alfred exclaims, laughing a little even as he feels a peculiar lurching sensation in his stomach, as though he’s suddenly missed a step going downstairs. “Edward and  _ James?  _ Where the hell did you get  _ that  _ idea, Em?” 

“Well, I’ve always thought they seemed  _ very  _ friendly whenever I’ve seen them together,” she muses. “And they certainly have a lot in common - both sweet, quiet, thoughtful.” Alfred stares at her, remembering that Will had just said much the same thing, albeit phrased in a less flattering way. 

“Plus,” Emma continues, “there’s the way Edward rushed to his rescue this evening as soon as he heard James was having trouble. That boy is a knight in shining armour if ever I saw one.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Alfred protests. “Edward was just being a sweetheart! He’s like that with  _ everyone _ , Emma!” 

Emma furrows her brow doubtfully. 

“He is a sweetheart to everyone, that’s true,” she replies. “But think about it, Alfred; James isn’t staying anywhere near your apartment. Edward would have had to go pretty far out of his way to rescue him when his car broke down, but it seems like he did it with no hesitation at all. And just look at them now. Edward certainly looks like he’d appreciate a bit of privacy.”

Alfred glances over, eyes wide. Edward  _ is  _ standing pretty close to James, seemingly trying to subtly shuffle them both further away from Will, who’s still talking at them with a huge smirk on his face. 

“That’s nothing to do with ‘privacy’,” he protests. “Edward just isn’t Will’s biggest fan. He’s probably just annoyed at Will intruding on their conversation, that’s all.” 

Emma shrugs. 

“Well, the signs seem pretty clear to me,” she says. “In fact, I’m not sure why Pippa was leaping to such a strange conclusion about James’s new mystery guitar, claiming he must be having an affair with his best friend’s girlfriend. That doesn’t seem like something James would do at all. It seems much more likely to me that the guitar might have been a gift from  _ Edward. _ ” 

Alfred stares at her, utterly incensed.

“Edward barely remembers to buy himself new clothes when he needs to, Emma!” he exclaims. “You think he would spend a ridiculous amount of money on a guitar for James Grey, and then keep the present a secret from everybody? Keep it secret from  _ me?” _

“Like I said, seems far more likely than Pippa’s alternative,” Emma replies, shrugging again. “And you know Edward, he likes to keep his feelings private. So does James. They probably didn’t want any attention drawn to them.” 

“No,” Alfred says flatly. “Edward isn’t into James, Emma. He’s just  _ not _ .” 

She raises her eyebrows.

“And what makes you so sure of that, Alfred?” 

“Well...I…” he splutters. “Edward just wouldn’t ever be into James, they’re not a good match! I mean, you know as well as I do that James isn’t good enough for him -”

“That’s not fair, Alfred,” Emma says sharply, narrowing her eyes. 

“I just meant…  _ nobody  _ is good enough for him, it’s  _ Edward _ -”

“Enough, Alfred,” Emma says sternly, and he goes quiet, feeling a little ashamed as she glares at him. “I know you’ve never been James’s biggest fan, but that’s not an excuse to be nasty. You should make more of an effort to be kind -  _ especially  _ if your best friend cares about him. I know you think that  _ you’re  _ the matchmaker in this town, but you should have learnt by now not to get upset if two people manage to find each other without your help. If Edward thinks James is good enough for him, then James is good enough for him.” 

Alfred blinks at her, stunned. 

“I wasn’t trying to be nasty,” he says. “If you’re right, and Edward  _ is  _ into James, I certainly won’t stand in their way. I promise.” 

“I should hope not,” she replies, raising her eyebrows again.

“But the thing is, I still think you’re wrong, Em. Edward does  _ not  _ have feelings for James Grey.” 

Emma shrugs, grinning slightly. “If you say so.” 

She walks away from him, leaving Alfred standing there staring at Edward and James, who are now chatting animatedly. They do look like they’re having a good time together…

Wait. Where did Will go? 

“I’m back,” says a deep, amused voice in his ear, and Alfred jumps slightly.

Will is standing there with a smirk, although Alfred can’t help but think his smirk doesn’t quite hide the strange look in his eyes - a shifting, uncertain, almost nervous kind of look. 

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to be away from you for quite so long,” Will continues. 

“It’s fine,” Alfred says with a small smile. “So? How did your secret investigation go? Did you discover anything interesting?” 

“I tried,” Will replies with a forlorn sigh. “But James has no intention of letting anything slip, it seems. The man’s got a good poker face. Which is more than I can say for Drummond.”

“What do you mean?” Alfred asks quickly. 

“Well, he certainly wasn’t particularly bothered with hiding his desire for me to piss off,” Will says with a grin. “Maybe he just doesn’t like me very much. Or maybe he wasn’t keen on me interrupting his private chat with James.” 

He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Right,” Alfred mutters.

Will frowns slightly.

“You okay?” 

“Fine,” Alfred replies. “Just feeling a bit tired, that’s all.”

“Will it help if I get you a top-up?” Will asks, nodding at the glass in his hand. 

Alfred can’t help but grin. 

“It might.”

“Be right back,” Will responds, taking his glass with a wink. 

Alfred sighs, sinking down onto the sofa as he stares across the room at Edward and James laughing together. He  _ is  _ feeling kind of drained at the moment, though he’s not really sure why. 

Through the hubbub of the room, he hears Pippa Elton’s obnoxious fake chiming laugh, and he struggles to resist the temptation to lie across the sofa with his face buried in the cushions.

He shouldn’t have come to this  _ stupid  _ party. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are more surprises in store, and Alfred is forced to interrogate his feelings.

Alfred has no idea what’s going on right now.

Pippa’s housewarming party last night was supposed to be a night of fun flirting for he and Will - he’d really thought the two of them might have actually got somewhere. He’d thought Will might have made a move on him, at least.

But what with Edward’s strangely distant behaviour at the party, Emma’s ridiculous theories, and Will’s leaving him alone for ages to try and suss out James’s secret - not to mention Pippa’s general bitchiness and snide taunts - the whole evening really hadn’t turned out quite the way Alfred had planned. He’d been looking forward to having a great time with Will and seeing where the evening led them, but after his conversation with Emma he’d felt suddenly so tired and irritated that all he’d really wanted to do was go home early. 

It was weird, he never usually felt like that at parties - particularly not when there was a hot guy showing such blatant interest in him. Maybe last night had just been an off night for him, Alfred muses. It probably hadn’t helped that Will had presumably had to twist Pippa’s arm to get him an invite in the first place - he’d already been feeling awkward and uncomfortable when he’d arrived. 

The strange thing was that Will had seemed to be in a weird mood last night as well, at least after he’d come back from speaking to Edward and James. He hadn’t stopped flirting with Alfred, but that strange uneasy look in his eyes hadn’t vanished, and sometimes it had seemed that Will had almost been forcing his laughs and innuendos so that he appeared more like his usual self. Maybe he’d just been feeling uncomfortable because of the encounter with his father. Hell, maybe it had just been Alfred’s bad mood infecting him. 

Eventually, the two of them had just agreed that it was a crappy party, and Will had driven Alfred home early, leaving Edward and James chatting animatedly. 

Not that that meant anything, of course - the two of them are  _ obviously _ just friends. Emma  _ can’t  _ be right, Edward would  _ never  _ keep something like that a secret from Alfred...would he? 

Will had come into their apartment and sat with him for a little bit, and Alfred had half-wondered if he was going to kiss him. He hadn’t even been sure whether he was really in the mood for a make-out session, let alone anything else. But, to his slight surprise, Will hadn’t attempted to make a move at all, whether because he had picked up on Alfred’s glum mood, or whether he was thinking of just how much wine Alfred had consumed to try and make himself feel better at Pippa’s. Perhaps Will Peel is more of a gentleman than Alfred had given him credit for. 

Edward’s weirdly distant mood seems to have carried over from last night, as well. Feeling drained, irritable and downcast without even really knowing why - not to mention, pretty drunk - Alfred had gone to bed pretty soon after Will had left. He hadn’t heard Edward come in, so he assumes he must have come home pretty late. 

Now, sitting opposite Edward at their little breakfast table like he does every day, he feels more awkward than he can ever remember feeling with his best friend. Maybe it’s just his raging hangover. 

“So, did you have fun with Will last night?” Edward asks in an oddly strained voice, without looking up from his cereal. “He drove you home, right?”

“Yeah, he did,” Alfred responds. 

He hesitates, not quite knowing how to answer the other part of the question. He and Will hadn’t done anything because he hadn’t been in the mood - but since  _ he  _ doesn’t even really know what his problem had been, how is he supposed to explain it to Edward? 

“And yes, Will and I did have fun, thanks,” he ends up saying, figuring it’s easier than explaining everything when he can’t even really justify  _ why  _ he’d been feeling so crappy. “We got through quite a lot of wine between us.” 

“I see,” Edward replies, swallowing slightly, still not looking up to meet Alfred’s eyes. “I, uh...I assume he didn’t stay over? Or are you hiding him in your room right now?” 

Alfred stares at him for a moment. It seems like Edward is trying to make a joke to put him at ease. But his smile is oddly forced. 

“No, he didn’t stay over. I was pretty drunk and apparently Will Peel is a gentleman, believe it or not. Besides, you know I never let guys stay the night here. I know it freaks you out.” 

“What?” Edward protests, with a weird forced laugh, something flitting across his face that looks almost like panic. “Why would that freak me out, Alfred?” 

“I don’t know, because you’re weird?” Alfred responds with a shrug, frowning slightly. “Because your family is super repressed and you’re still getting used to the idea of sex?” 

Edward stares at him, his mouth open, brow furrowed in bewilderment as though he has no clue how to respond to that. 

“Are you trying to tell me that it  _ wouldn’t  _ freak you out?” Alfred asks. “That you’d be fine with it?” 

Edward goes silent for a moment, the air between them filled with a tension that’s almost tangible, a sudden awkwardness that Alfred has never experienced with Edward before, that he can’t really understand. 

Finally, Edward shrugs. 

“No, it wouldn’t freak me out,” he says shortly, picking up his spoon and looking down at his bowl again rather than meeting Alfred’s eyes. “You’re an adult, Alfred, you don’t need my permission to bring guys over here. Besides,” he swallows slightly before looking up at Alfred with a small smile, “you know I always want you to be happy.” 

Alfred smiles back at him at that, although the weird tension between them still doesn’t quite seem to have dissipated. 

“Thanks. You know I always want  _ you  _ to be happy too, right?”

Edward nods, giving him another small, though strangely sad smile. 

“Yeah. I know that.” 

“So, did  _ you  _ have a good time with James?” Alfred asks. 

He’s trying to make his tone cheery, like he’s just keen for gossip - but, well, he can’t seem to get what Emma had said out of his head. And he needs to know. 

Edward looks a little taken aback by the question. 

“You know I gave him a lift because his car broke down, right?” 

“Yeah, I know, I heard.” 

Edward nods again. 

“But yeah, now that you mention it, I did have a pretty good time last night - when your Will Peel wasn’t hovering around, that is. James is actually pretty great.” 

Alfred nods in return, looking down at his own bowl, suddenly finding himself unable to meet Edward’s eyes as another unexpected wave of irritation and hurt crashes over him. 

If Emma was right about Edward having feelings for James Grey - perhaps even sending him the guitar anonymously - then why can’t Edward just  _ tell  _ him that? Alfred had freely told him about his own flirting with Will, so why should this thing about James have to be a secret? They usually tell each other  _ everything  _ \- so why won’t Edward trust him with this? 

The two of them finish their breakfast and clean up in silence, the air still heavy with tension, Alfred feeling strangely hurt and unsatisfied. 

* * *

When Edward announces the next day that he won’t be coming into the cafe because Robert wants him in the office - again - Alfred takes it as a sign that his Monday isn’t going to be much better than his weekend was. Is Edward trying to avoid him? Is he angry with him for some reason? Is that why he isn’t telling him what’s going on between him and James Grey - or  _ if  _ there’s anything going on? Alfred feels another sharp twist of hurt at the thought. But  _ why  _ would Edward be angry at him? What did he  _ do _ ? Why can’t Edward just  _ tell  _ him? 

He scrubs angrily at the countertop, and Florence glances at him in concern as she carries a teetering pile of cups over from the tables she’s just cleared. 

“Alfred,” she asks quietly. “Are you okay?” 

He stops scrubbing and sighs; but before he can respond, the bell tinkles as the cafe door opens. 

Alfred has a momentary feeling of dread - please, god,  _ not  _ bloody Pippa Elton again, that would be just his luck today. But on looking up, he grins in relief - it’s Will. 

“Well, hey there, stranger,” he greets him, still grinning. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, I must say.”

Well, it’s true, he thinks, as Will sits down at the counter; he needs something to take his mind off everything. And flirting and laughing with Will Peel is usually a pretty enjoyable distraction. 

“Alfred Paget,” Will greets him in response, with a grin that doesn’t quite seem to reach his eyes. “Are you feeling a bit better than you were feeling the other night?” 

“Better?” Alfred echoes, frowning slightly. 

“More sober, I mean,” Will clarifies. 

“What? I wasn’t that bad, was I?” he asks, flushing a little. 

“I mean, yeah, you were definitely a little the worse for wear by the time I said goodnight,” Will replies, his grin widening. 

Alfred groans. 

“Oh relax, I promise you didn’t do anything  _ too  _ embarrassing,” Will says, laughing at the look on his face. 

“So anyway, what can I get for you?” Alfred asks hastily, rather keen to move on.

“Just a large black coffee, please,” Will answers with a small sigh. 

Alfred looks at him in surprise. He’d been expecting Will to take the opportunity to make some kind of flirtatious and filthy innuendo there - he had left the door wide open for him. But no. Nothing.

“Okay, coming right up,” he replies, trying to hide his surprise. 

Will just sits there quietly while Alfred is making his coffee, apart from a few quiet questions he asks Florence about what she’s been up to. When Alfred turns back and puts his coffee down in front of him a few minutes later, he notices how Will’s shoulders have slumped, how he’s looking down at the table with a slight frown tugging the corner of his mouth down, rather than his usual smirk. His chaotic, exuberant energy seems to have suddenly vanished. Something is definitely going on with him. 

“Thanks,” Will mutters as he picks up his coffee, with an attempt at a smile. 

“So,” Alfred begins, grinning at him in an attempt to cheer him up, “I seem to remember you saying something the other night about planning a little party of your own, unless I just imagined that in my wine-addled state. So? Have you thought any more about that possibility? Because I can tell you that I for one would be pretty keen.” 

Will heaves a sigh. 

“I’m sorry, Alfred,” he replies. “I would have loved to host a little party, even if it was only for you and me - and Florence, of course,” he adds gallantly, giving her a little smile. “But I can’t - or at least, not in the near future.”

“Wait, what? Why not?” Alfred asks, pouting slightly.

“Because it turns out my boss is making me come back to work in London. Immediately.” 

“What?!” Alfred protests, feeling disappointment coursing through him. “When?  _ How  _ immediately?” 

Will sighs again. 

“I’m actually heading back to London later today. I just wanted to drop in here first so I could say goodbye to you, Alfred.” 

Alfred stares at him, stunned.

“Oh,” he says lamely.

“Yeah,” Will replies apologetically. 

It takes a moment for Alfred to gather his thoughts.

“Uh, how long are you going to be...gone?” 

Will looks at him, his dark eyes sad. 

“I don’t know yet. Could be a few weeks, could be a few months.” 

Alfred nods slowly. He can’t really think of anything to say. 

“Right.” 

There’s silence between them for a few moments, as Will quietly drinks his coffee, avoiding Alfred’s eyes. 

Alfred stares at him, still struggling to process all of this. Only a few days ago, Will was eagerly flirting with him. He’d assumed they were heading towards  _ something _ , even if it was just having a little fun together. Now, as he looks at him, he realises that he’s never seen Will Peel look this serious, this upset. 

“Will?” he asks quietly. “Are you okay? I mean...is there anything wrong?” 

Will gives him a sad little smile. 

“No, there’s nothing wrong,” he answers. “Or at least, nothing you can help me with, Alfred. But thank you.”

Alfred looks at him, sensing that whatever it is, Will is trying to downplay it so that he doesn’t worry.

“Are you sure?” he asks doubtfully.

Will nods slowly, looking down at his coffee mug.

“It’s pretty difficult, isn’t it?” he murmurs, seemingly more to himself than to Alfred. “When you can’t truly be open? When you care about somebody  _ so  _ much, but you can’t announce it to the world? And you’re not sure they even  _ know _ how much they mean to you?” 

“Um...yeah, I guess,” Alfred responds awkwardly, completely thrown by this. Surely, Will couldn’t be implying…?

Will sighs, forcing a grin so that he looks more like his old self. 

“Sorry, ignore me. Getting melodramatic in my old age, I guess.” 

He laughs at himself a little, before draining his coffee and standing up, taking out his card to pay.

“No no, don’t worry about that,” Alfred tells him hastily, waving his card away. “It’s on the house.”

“I can’t do that!” Will protests.

“I said, it’s on the house,” Alfred repeats firmly.

Will grins reluctantly. 

“Okay, well...thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he responds, grinning back.

“I mean it,” Will says quietly. “Thank you, Alfred. I don’t know how long it will be until I can come back, exactly, but...thank you. You’ve brightened my time here so much, and I really am going to miss you. A lot. You’re pretty amazing, Alfred - you know that, right?” 

Alfred stares at him, stunned speechless. Is this the reason for Will’s strange mood since the party? Has he completely misread what’s been going on here? He’d just assumed they were both having a bit of fun flirting, that they might eventually have even  _ more  _ fun by hooking up a few times. Surely, the outrageously filthy and flirtatious Will Peel hasn’t actually started to  _ fall  _ for him? 

“I...I’ll miss you too, Will,” he responds awkwardly, still struggling to process everything that he’d said. 

Will gives him a small smile.

“I’ll try not to be away for too long.” 

Alfred nods slowly, trying to find the right words. Luckily, he’s saved by Florence, who comes back towards the counter at that moment, carrying more used plates.

“Are you leaving already?” she asks Will, looking rather disappointed as he puts his coat on. 

“Will has to go back to London for work later today,” Alfred explains to her. “He was just popping in to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” Florence replies, looking almost as astonished as Alfred feels. “Well, um, good luck in London, Will.” 

“Thank you,” Will tells her, with a hint of his old smile. “I’m definitely going to miss you, gorgeous.” 

To Alfred’s surprise, he bends down and presses a flirtatious kiss on Florence’s cheek. Immediately, she flushes scarlet, giggling breathlessly and almost losing her grip on the plates she’s carrying.

Will helps her steady the plates, before turning back to Alfred. 

“I’ll see you around, Alfred Paget,” he says, with another small, sad smile.

A moment later, the bell on the door tinkles, and Will Peel is gone. 

Alfred stares after him. 

What the hell just  _ happened? _

* * *

“Are you okay?” Edward asks him when he gets home from the cafe later that evening, frowning slightly at the look on Alfred’s face. 

“What?” Alfred asks vaguely, having been lost in thought. He looks up to see an expression of concern on Edward’s face. 

“I said, are you okay?” Edward repeats. “You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

“Oh,” Alfred replies. “Yeah. Will came into the cafe to say goodbye earlier.” 

“Goodbye?” Edward echoes, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” Alfred huffs. “Apparently he has to go back to London for work. He said he was leaving later today.” He checks his watch. “He’s probably left by now. He said...he said he didn’t know how long it would be before he could come back to Highbury.”

“Oh,” Edward replies. He looks as though he’s struggling not to look too pleased about the news. “I’m sorry, Alf. It’s a bit shitty of him to just up and leave like that without giving you any warning.”

“He didn’t seem very happy at the prospect of leaving Highbury, though,” he muses. “I mean, that goodbye was...weirdly intense.”

“Intense how?” Edward asks, furrowing his brow slightly. 

“He was just...more emotional than I expected him to be.”

Something flickers across Edward’s face, something Alfred can’t quite read. 

“I see,” he says quietly. “And you weren’t ready for it?” 

“No, it’s just…” Alfred sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Edward, I’m just...not really in the mood to talk right now. I need some time to myself. I need to think.” 

Something flickers in Edward’s expression again, and he nods.

“Of course,” he murmurs. “I’ll be here if you need me - you know that, right?” 

“Yeah, I know,” Alfred responds, giving him a small smile.

Edward looks like he wants to say something else, but he seems to think better of it. He nods, returning to his book as Alfred walks over to his room, closing the door quietly behind him. 

He sinks slowly down onto the bed, his mind still reeling with everything Will had said. 

_ When you care about somebody  _ so _ much, but you can’t announce it to the world...And you’re not sure they even  _ know _ how much they mean to you... _

Was Will really implying what Alfred thinks he was implying? Is he, Alfred, the one that Will cares about ‘so much’? Has Will been wanting to let Alfred know how much he means to him, this whole time?  _ Surely not _ , he protests. Will’s flirting had never given the impression that he had developed  _ feelings _ , that he wanted to start a  _ relationship _ …

But then, why else would he have come to the cafe to give him such a heartfelt farewell, why would he have hinted at those feelings if he was talking about somebody else? Who else  _ would  _ he have been talking about? Alfred had made the mistake of entirely overlooking someone’s feelings for him before - he doesn’t want to repeat the same mistake twice. 

And Will had seemed so uncharacteristically gloomy and downcast at the prospect of leaving Highbury, even if it was only for a little while. His usual infectious, flirtatious energy seemed to have almost completely vanished. Alfred doesn’t think he was faking it, either - it seemed entirely genuine. 

But what about  _ him _ ? Has  _ he  _ developed feelings for  _ Will _ , while this whole time he’d thought he was just flirting and having fun? 

Alfred sighs, burying his face in his hands. Surely, he wouldn’t be so oblivious as to fall for Will, without even noticing?

He likes Will a lot, he enjoys spending time with him - okay, that much is obvious. He certainly wouldn’t have objected if Will had made a move on him, he can happily admit to that. And yeah, he cares about Will, he wants him to be safe and happy. 

But...is he actually in  _ love  _ with Will Peel?...Maybe? Dammit, where is his  _ intuition?  _

Maybe it’s just because he’s never been in love before. How is he supposed to know what being in love feels like? He has no frame of reference, nothing to compare it to...

Alfred sighs again, raising his head and looking at his own anxious face in the mirror on his dressing table. 

Maybe he just needs to wait a bit before he can know for sure. After all, Will has only just left. He probably needs to give it at least a few days, to see how much and how quickly he misses him, to see whether it actually hurts to be without him. 

Yes. That must be the answer. It’s too early to know for sure just yet. He needs more time before he can know whether he’s in love. 

* * *

Alfred doesn’t hear a word from Will for three days. 

It’s almost as if he’d never flirted with him, never said those things to him, as if he’s forgotten about Alfred completely, in fact - or at least, wants to pretend that he has. 

Alfred can’t deny that Will’s sudden ghosting is annoying and bordering on insulting - and it’s certainly a blow to his ego. Will is baffling, to say the least. 

But he’s also pleasantly surprised to find that Will’s behaviour doesn’t actually  _ hurt.  _ Okay, yes, he misses him. He misses his confidence, his stories, his complete lack of a filter. He misses Will’s knack for making him laugh. He misses Will’s blatant, outrageous flirting, the excitement of wondering when he was going to hurry up and make a move. Will’s sudden vanishing does make it seem like Alfred was right in his first assumption; Will’s flirting had only ever been that. He certainly hasn’t given Alfred any indication of having feelings for him since the day he left - and perhaps he was just in a strange mood that day, or maybe Alfred was just misreading his signals. 

So Will’s not in love with him after all, apparently. Alfred feels like he should probably be feeling more upset about coming to that conclusion. Yes, he’d be glad to hear an update from him, and he’s excited to see him when he gets back to Highbury - whenever that may be - and to hear some more stories about his adventures. He wouldn’t even say no to some more flirting, if Will was amenable - though he supposes he might have to put his foot down if Will were to make a move on him, after ghosting him like this for days. 

But Alfred has realised now that, even though he’s certainly looking forward to seeing Will again, he’s perfectly happy to wait a while. It seems he had been right in his first assumption about his own feelings as well - he had been enjoying the flirting, he’d been flattered by the attention, excited about the potential prospect of hooking up with someone he got along so well with. But he’s fairly confident now that there’d been nothing more to it than that. That’s the most important revelation Alfred has had since Will left - he was never in love after all. 

It’s kind of a relief, if he’s honest with himself. He’s never been in love before, and he’s never particularly  _ wanted _ to find himself so attached to somebody that it hurts to be without them. Plus, he has to admit that, much as he enjoys spending time with Will Peel, he’s not exactly boyfriend material. Well, not for him, at least. They’re too similar to each other. If Will was ever going to settle down with anybody, Alfred has a feeling he’d need somebody who’d balance him out and ground him a little. And perhaps self-awareness hasn’t been Alfred’s strongest suit recently - but he knows enough at least to be sure that  _ he’s  _ not the right person to bring Will Peel down to earth. 

He figures he should at least send Will a text, though. Just to see how he’s doing. It’s been three days now since he’d heard anything from him, so it’s not so soon after his departure that he’ll look desperate or clingy, or anything like that. Or at least, he hopes not. 

“You ready?” Edward asks, pulling his coat on, car keys jangling in his hand as he gestures towards the door. 

“I won’t be a minute,” Alfred replies absentmindedly, “I’m just sending Will a quick message.” 

“Right,” Edward says quietly, looking away as he zips up his coat. 

Alfred sighs slightly as he types out the text. He and Edward haven’t said a word about Will since the day he’d left. He’s kind of glad that Edward hasn’t tried to ask him about it, actually; he’s not really sure he’s ready to discuss it yet. 

_ Hey Will _ , he texts quickly,

_ I hope you’re having a great time over there in London - can’t wait to hear about your adventures! It’s been pretty quiet here in Highbury without you! _

_ Alfred xx _

“Okay, done,” he mutters as he sends it off. 

“Great, shall we go?” Edward responds, still not looking at him. 

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Alfred answers. 

He dawdles a little over putting his coat on, waiting for his phone to buzz and light up again; usually whenever he’s texted Will in the past, he’s replied within minutes. 

But there’s no response as he puts his coat on and follows Edward out of the apartment, and still nothing as they drive to the cafe. But then, Will must be pretty busy with work right now, Alfred reasons. Or perhaps, by looking at Alfred’s text and not responding, he  _ is  _ sending him a more implicit message. 

Alfred frowns slightly as he gazes out of the car window. He doesn’t feel upset by Will’s sudden indifference, per se, and he’s certainly a long way from heartbroken. He’s mostly just annoyed, really - it seems like a bit of a dick move. Or maybe he’s just overthinking it all. 

Once again, Florence looks slightly concerned at the expression on his face as he walks into the cafe, Edward holding the door open for him as usual. 

“Good morning,” she says uncertainly. “Um...are you okay, Alfred?” 

“Morning, Flo,” he sighs as he joins her behind the counter and ties his apron on. Edward smiles at her as he takes his laptop out of its bag, setting himself up in his usual spot at the counter. 

“And yeah, I’m fine, thanks,” he continues, responding to her question with a small shrug. “Just feeling a bit annoyed, that’s all.”

“Oh no, why?” she asks.

Before Alfred can answer, the bell on the cafe door tinkles, announcing the arrival of one of their first customers of the day.

Alfred instinctively looks up to see who it is, feeling another twinge of irritation as he recognises the handsome form of James Grey. 

“Wonderful,” he mutters under his breath. Florence glances sideways at him, looking rather surprised at his tone. 

“Morning, James!” Edward greets him, with an enthusiastic smile. “We don’t usually see you here so early!”

“Morning, Edward,” James responds, smiling back at him. “Yeah, I thought I might just come in to grab a coffee today.” 

“Here, you can come and sit next to me,” Edward says with a grin. “Hang on, I’ll just get my stuff out of your way…”

Edward hastily picks up his coat and laptop bag, which he’d placed on the empty seat next to him, and dumps them on the floor. 

“Thanks, Edward,” James replies with a small smile. 

“Morning, James,” Alfred says brightly, forcing himself to smile politely. 

After everything Emma had said at the party, he can’t help wondering if James Grey has come here to the cafe just to see Edward. Edward had probably mentioned to him in passing that he usually sits here to do his work. 

James turns to Alfred and, to his surprise, his face seems to fall slightly. 

“Hi, Alfred,” he says quietly, almost cautiously, as though he doesn’t want to say too much to him. 

Alfred feels his smile falter a little as his stomach sinks. 

_ Shit.  _ Surely Will hadn’t let it slip that he and Alfred had been gossiping about James? But he can’t think why else James would seem so uncomfortable around him, when he seems perfectly fine with Edward -  _ more  _ than fine, in fact. Unless he himself has been more obvious than he’d thought about his dislike? 

“Nice to see you here in the cafe,” Alfred says, hastily plastering his smile back in place. “So, what can I get for you, James?” 

“Regular flat white, thanks, Alfred,” James responds, with a smile that looks just as forced as Alfred’s own. 

“Coming right up,” Alfred replies, turning away hastily to hide his face.

“So how’s your aunt doing?” he hears Edward ask behind him. 

“Alfred?” Florence asks quietly. 

“I’m fine, Florence,” he says shortly, trying to make James’s flat white at top speed.

“Here you are, James,” he says a few moments later, placing it down in front of him. 

“Thanks very much, Alfred,” James answers with a polite little smile, before turning back to Edward and continuing to chat with him animatedly. 

For a moment, Alfred stands frozen behind the counter, staring at them as he feels that peculiar lurching feeling in his stomach, the same one he had felt when Emma had first told him her theory. 

Surely, if Edward had feelings for James Grey, he wouldn’t have completely neglected to mention it to Alfred, his best friend? Not to mention, neglecting to tell him that he might also have sent a ridiculously expensive guitar to James anonymously, when he never even spends any money on himself? Emma’s  _ wrong,  _ she  _ must  _ be wrong...and yet, Edward and James certainly seem to be enjoying their chat...is he imagining it, or did James just edge his chair closer to Edward’s? James never usually comes to the cafe anyway, what’s he  _ doing  _ here?

“Alfred?” Florence asks quietly. He jumps slightly, cursing himself as he realises that he’s just been standing here staring at them. 

“Sorry, coming,” he mutters, flushing a little as he awkwardly hurries over to help her organise the display cabinet. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Florence asks him in an undertone.

“Yeah, I just - ” 

His phone buzzes unexpectedly in his pocket, and he cuts himself off, taking it out to check it. He grins a little.

“Well, better late than never, I guess,” he remarks. 

“What is?” Florence asks. 

“Will Peel. He’s finally responded to my message. I hadn’t heard from him since he left, so I asked him how everything was going in London.” 

“Ooh!” Florence says excitedly. “And? What did he say?” 

_ “Hi Alfred _ ,” he reads out to her in an undertone, keeping half an eye out in case Victoria has spotted them huddled around his phone and is currently plotting murder.  _ “London is lovely as ever - sorry I haven’t had a chance to message until now, work is pretty hectic at the moment as you probably guessed. Of course I miss Highbury, too _ ” - Alfred pauses for a moment, a little surprised by Will’s next words.

“What?” Florence asks. 

_ “Of course I miss Highbury, too - how is your gorgeous friend Florence? Can’t wait to see her when I get back - and you too, of course! Will xx”,  _ Alfred reads out after a moment’s hesitation. 

“Wait, what?” Florence asks, giggling in shock as she blushes. “ _ Me?  _ Gorgeous?!”

“Well, yeah, that’s what he says,” Alfred replies, recovering himself a little. “And why wouldn’t he say that, Flo? I’ve told you, you  _ are  _ gorgeous!”

“And...and Will Peel thinks so too?” she asks tentatively.

“Well, yeah, clearly,” he responds. 

Florence beams, before hastily turning back to the display cabinet. 

_ Well, well, well,  _ Alfred thinks to himself, as he slips his phone back into his pocket before Victoria catches him. It’s lucky he’s already come to the conclusion that he’s not in love with Will Peel after all, because while that - very belated - text was flirtatious, the flirtatiousness certainly didn’t seem to have been directed at  _ him.  _ He suddenly remembers the way Will had caught Florence off-guard on the day he left by swooping in to kiss her on the cheek. 

Was Alfred just being stupidly self-centred when he’d assumed that Will was upset because he was having to leave  _ him _ ? Could it be possible that he’d actually been developing feelings for  _ Florence _ ? 

And as for Florence...well, she hardly seems to be objecting to Will’s attentions…

Alfred is roused from his reverie - which had been blessedly distracting him from whatever the hell is going on between Edward and James right now - by the sound of the bell on the door tinkling again. 

Looking up, he tries not to groan, immediately feeling gloom settling over him again.  _ Bloody  _ Pippa Elton and her  _ stupid  _ fiance. Honestly, can’t those two just go to some other cafe?? 

“Morning, Pippa, Alex,” he greets them through gritted teeth. “What can I get for you two?”

“Goodness, Alfred, it looks like you’ve got  _ two  _ admirers sitting at the counter today!” Pippa says with her fake chiming laugh. Alfred glares at her, seeing James grimace out of the corner of his eye as Edward flushes slightly. “Actually, it’s lucky we found you all here,” Pippa continues, smirking at the look on Alfred’s face. 

“I work here, Pippa,” Alfred says flatly.

“Oh, I know,” she replies, in a tone of mocking condolence. “Anyway, Alex and I thought we might just hand deliver a few invitations to our engagement party while we ran our errands today. Hold on, I know they’re in here somewhere…”

She hoists up her oversized handbag, carefully making sure they can all see that it’s not only perfectly colour coordinated with her outfit but also an extremely expensive brand name. Alfred grimaces as she makes a show of rummaging through her bag - how did he ever think  _ this  _ woman would be a good match for Florence??

“Ah yes, here we are!” she crows, withdrawing a stack of elegantly embossed turquoise envelopes with her expertly manicured hand. “Here you are, James...Edward...Alfred...Victoria…”

“And Florence?” Alfred prompts her pointedly, as she appears to be on the point of carefully placing them back in her bag.

“Oh yes, of course, silly me,” she says with another fake laugh. “Just a tick…” 

But rather than sorting through the stack of embossed envelopes, she rummages for a moment in her bag, drawing out a transparently cheap and crappy brown paper envelope, with the name ‘Florence’ hastily scrawled in tiny writing in the corner, evidently an afterthought. 

“Here you are, Florence, dear,” she says with a sugary smile, pushing the crappy paper envelope across the counter towards her. 

Alfred watches as Florence’s face falls; simultaneously, he and Edward both instinctively move in a little closer towards her, as if to shield her. 

“How  _ very  _ thoughtful of you,” Alfred says to Pippa, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Was there anything else you wanted?” 

“Alex and I will have two large black coffees to go -  _ if  _ that’s not too much trouble for you, Alfred?” 

“Nope, no trouble at all,” he answers cheerily, turning to the coffee machine and muttering “fuck  _ off _ ,” under his breath. 

“You okay?” he murmurs to Florence, who is looking pale, shrinking into herself slightly as though wishing she could hide from Pippa’s view. She nods a little shakily.

“I’m fine,” she whispers. 

Alfred highly doubts that’s true, but he decides now is probably not the best time to press the issue. 

“So, how you doing, Eddie?” he hears Alex ask cheerfully behind him. Alfred’s hand momentarily clenches into a fist as he works the coffee machine. 

“Fine, thanks, Alex,” Edward responds politely. 

“Good, good,” Alex responds. “And how about you, James? How come you’re still here in Highbury, anyway? Don’t you have a job in London or something?” 

“I do, yes,” James responds. “I work in the charity sector at the moment, I’m really enjoying it. But my aunt hasn’t been doing too well with her health recently, so my boss is letting me work remotely from here for a little while so I can take care of her.”

“The charity sector?” Alex echoes amusedly. “That’s very sweet and self-sacrificing of you, James - but from what I hear, you’re a pretty talented guy. You don’t want to be wasting your time in a paltry little charity job, surely? Think of the money you could be earning elsewhere! I’d be more than happy to make a few calls for you, see what’s available in the management business at the moment? I’ve got contacts, some friends in high places, you know - and you could be one of them, if you let me give you a hand! Just say the magic word!”

Alfred’s noise of derision comes out a little louder than he’d intended - he can feel Edward’s warning glance without even looking at him. Alex gives no indication that he heard him. 

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Alex, but as I said, I really enjoy the job that I have now,” James answers calmly. “I’m not really looking to make a change.”

“But the  _ money  _ you could be making - ” Alex protests.

“I’m really fine,” James responds, cutting him off politely but firmly. “But thank you for the offer.” 

Alex looks rather put out at this; but before he can say anything, Alfred slams two coffees down on the counter. 

“Two black coffees to go,” he says shortly. Before Pippa can make any snide comments about his manners, he plasters on a smile and adds sweetly, “and thank you again for the invitations. So thoughtful of you to actually remember us  _ all _ .” 

“Well, we do our best,” Pippa answers, and she and Alex exchange self-satisfied smirks, giving Alfred a strong urge to swear at them both. 

She picks up the coffees from the counter, handing one over to Alex. 

“Well, we really must dash,” she says sweetly, throwing her long curls back over her shoulder, “but we can’t wait to see you all back here at the cafe for the most fabulous party!”

“Don’t forget that offer’s still open whenever you decide to take me up on it, James,” Alex reminds him pointedly. 

“I’ll remember. Thanks,” James says quietly, his voice strained with irritation. 

“Alright, well, see you around, guys,” Alex says, evidently completely oblivious to James’s tone as he locks hands with Pippa. “Take care, Alfred. Eddie.” 

He claps Edward on the shoulder so hard that he winces slightly, and Alfred wrestles down the urge to punch him in the face. 

Both looking thoroughly satisfied with themselves, the two of them saunter out of the cafe hand in hand. Alfred glares after them as the door closes. 

* * *

“I cannot  _ believe  _ those two!!” Alfred seethes later that evening, storming up and down the living room.

“I know,” Edward sympathises, sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine in his hand and a book on his lap. Alfred’s glad Edward isn’t arguing with him on this or telling him to be kinder, even if he does look a little amused at the extent of Alfred’s irritation. “They  _ were  _ both being pretty horrible today. Still, at least they’ve actually remembered to give you an invitation straight away this time. That’s something, right?” 

“Yeah, but did you see the ‘invitation’ she gave to Florence?” Alfred asks furiously. “That cheap, shitty paper envelope that was  _ obviously  _ an afterthought? And she might well have ‘forgotten’ to give it to her at all if I hadn’t pointed out that she hadn’t given anything to Flo yet! She couldn’t have been any more pointed if she’d tried!”

“You’re right,” Edward agrees, his brow furrowing as he frowns. “That  _ was  _ pretty nasty of her.” 

“And as for her stupid fiance,” Alfred fumes, “James  _ clearly  _ said that he’s perfectly happy in his current job, he doesn’t want or need any help in finding another one - so what the  _ fuck  _ makes bloody Alex Hawkins think he has the right to meddle or interfere in other peoples’ lives like that?!”

“Yes, heaven forbid anybody should meddle or interfere in anybody else’s life,” Edward says amusedly. Alfred shoots him a dark look and Edward grins. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. It was right there.” 

“I’m  _ trying  _ to be better!” Alfred protests. “And I am  _ nothing  _ like Alex Hawkins, Edward!”

“I know you’re not,” Edward responds soothingly. “I am a little surprised to see you sticking up for James, though.”

Alfred shrugs, feeling a little guilty. 

“Well, I know he doesn’t deserve to have stupid Alex Hawkins nagging him and poking his nose into his business when it’s not wanted. James is a better person than Alex, he doesn’t need any of his ‘help.’”

“Well, I can’t argue with you there,” Edward agrees. “Alex seems to be completely oblivious to the fact that James is a better person than he is, in every way. He certainly doesn’t need his help.” 

Alfred feels a sudden sinking sensation at Edward’s enthusiastic praise of James, remembering again what Emma had suggested at the party, thinking of Edward’s seemingly delighted reaction when James had turned up at the cafe this morning, the animated way they had been chatting together, the way James had seemed to edge his seat closer to Edward. 

He doesn’t know why it hurts so much that Edward might be keeping all of this secret from him, but….well, it does. They’re best friends after all, aren’t they? 

“Alf?” Edward asks concernedly, realising that he’s suddenly stopped pacing and gone quiet. “You okay?” 

Alfred hesitates.

“Edward, can I ask you something?” he asks quietly, suddenly deciding that he’s sick of wondering, of feeling awkward and uncomfortable whenever this issue comes up. He might not like what Edward tells him, but...it’s better than just not knowing, isn’t it?

“Of course you can,” Edward says, looking surprised. “You can  _ always  _ ask me things, Alf, you know that.” 

Alfred nods. 

“Do you...do you have feelings for James Grey?” he blurts out.

“Wait.... _ what? _ ” Edward asks. Clearly, whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t that. “Feelings for  _ James?  _ Where did you get  _ that  _ idea, Alf?”

Edward certainly doesn’t seem offended or awkward or put on the spot; in fact, he’s started to laugh a little. Alfred feels the weight in his stomach lifting. 

“Emma mentioned...when you and James arrived at Pippa’s party together...she was saying how well the two of you seem to get on…”

“I mean, yeah, we do get on,” Edward says with a little shrug. “I told you, though, I came with James because his car had broken down that evening.”

“And apparently James had received an amazingly good quality guitar, and it was an anonymous gift,” Alfred continues. “Emma reckoned it might have been a present from you.” 

“From  _ me _ ?” Edward echoes bemusedly. “I barely ever spend any money on  _ myself,  _ Alf! I couldn’t afford to get James a guitar like that even if I had wanted to!”

“Well, that’s what I said to Emma!” Alfred exclaims. He pauses for a moment. “Wait...so if  _ you  _ didn’t get that guitar for James, then who did?” 

Edward shrugs again.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” 

“Right,” Alfred responds. 

He’s still curious about that mystery - could Pippa have been right in the first place?  _ Is  _ James in a relationship with his friend’s girlfriend, then? He shakes himself slightly - now isn’t really the time for wondering about that, is it?

“So...you  _ don’t  _ like James Grey, then?” he asks awkwardly. It can’t hurt to be crystal clear. 

“I mean, of course I  _ like _ him!” Edward exclaims. 

“Oh,” Alfred says quietly, feeling another little lurch in his stomach.

“James is a really nice person - so yeah, I like him and consider him a friend, and I’m pretty sure he feels the same way about me,” Edward clarifies. “But I promise you, Alf, I have never in my life felt anything more than friendship for him.” 

“Never?” 

“ _ Never _ ,” Edward confirms. 

Alfred grins, suddenly feeling lighter than he has done for days. 

“Well, why not?” he teases, sitting down next to Edward on the sofa and poking at him gently. “After all, he’s a  _ really  _ nice person, apparently.” 

Edward shrugs.

“I don’t know. I don’t think James and I are particularly ‘compatible,’ to use one of your favourite words. We’re too similar, really - we’re both far too sensible and reserved to make a good couple. I think I would need somebody who balanced me out a bit more. Somebody a little bit more open. Passionate. Dramatic.” 

He smiles softly at Alfred.

Alfred grins suddenly, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. 

“What?” Edward asks, looking bemused. “What are you grinning about?” 

“I  _ told _ Emma she was wrong about you and James!” Alfred crows. “I’m gonna send her a message. I  _ love  _ being right!!” 

Edward sighs, but Alfred notices that he’s grinning even as he rolls his eyes. 

* * *

_ One Month Later _

“I still don’t really know how you convinced me to come to this stupid thing,” Alfred grumbles. “As if it wasn’t enough that Flo and I had to spend ages reorganising and decorating the cafe so that those two could have their precious engagement party there!” 

Edward sighs slightly without looking over at him, still focused on the road. 

“I told you, it would have looked pretty rude for us to turn the invites down without a good reason,” he says patiently. “I’m sure if you stop being so grumpy then you’ll have a perfectly lovely evening. You’ll barely even have to talk to Pippa and Alex if you don’t want to, apart from giving them the gift and thanking them at the end. Just stick with me and Florence. Besides, given that you had to spend all that time decorating the cafe for this thing, don’t you think you might as well take the chance to relax and enjoy it now?”

“I think Edward has a point, Alfred,” Florence says quietly from the back seat of the car. 

Alfred sighs dramatically. 

“Fine, I see that you two are ganging up on me. Don’t worry, I’ll behave. Or I’ll try, at least.” 

“Good,” Edward replies, grinning a little. “Why don’t you and Florence go in ahead of me now while I find somewhere to park? I won’t be a minute.” 

“Sure,” Alfred answers with a little shrug. He turns around to speak to Florence.

“You ready?” he asks.

She nods, looking a little pale.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I think.”

“You know Edward and I will stay with you, right?” Alfred says gently.

She nods again, giving him a nervous but grateful smile.

“Yeah, I know.” 

“Alright,” he responds. “Into the breach then, shall we?”

He leaps out of the car, quickly walking over to open Florence’s door for her and help her out, knowing how high her heels are. 

“Thanks, Alfred,” she smiles.

“Don’t mention it,” he grins, offering her his arm. “You’re looking beautiful, Flo.” 

She really is, wearing a deep plum dress with a sweetheart neckline that perfectly complements her shape. Remembering Will’s text asking after her, Alfred thinks it’s a shame he isn’t around to see her right now. 

She grins.

“Why, thank you. You’re looking pretty snazzy yourself.” 

“Well, I try,” he responds, smirking a little as he straightens his bow tie. 

Alfred grimaces slightly at the sight of Alex and Pippa standing together in the doorway, both looking flawlessly stylish and wearing matching self-satisfied smirks. 

Edward was right, though, he reminds himself. Hopefully all he has to do is greet the pair of them civilly, and then he’ll be able to hang out with Edward and Florence and largely ignore them for the rest of the night. 

“Congratulations, Alex, Pippa,” he says, forcing a smile and reluctantly shaking Alex’s hand, before handing his and Edward’s present across to Pippa. It’s a bottle of wine that’s probably too cheap and crappy for an engagement party - but with this particular couple, he’s not feeling all that generous. 

“Thanks. You’ve cleaned up nicely, Alfred,” says Alex. 

“Hi, Florence,” says Pippa, looking awkward. “I, um...I wasn’t expecting to see  _ you  _ here this evening.” 

Florence pauses in the act of proffering her own gift.

“What?” she asks, looking bemused. 

“What are you talking about, Pippa?” Alfred asks, raising an eyebrow. “ _ You _ invited her, remember?” 

“Oh no,” Pippa says, raising a hand to her mouth in an exaggerated imitation of alarm. “Don’t tell me I forgot to send the message? I could have sworn I’d sent it, but...silly me, I guess it must have slipped my mind….party planning can get  _ so  _ hectic…”

“ _ What  _ message?” Alfred asks flatly.

“I...well, this is a little embarrassing,” Pippa says with her fake chiming laugh, exchanging a quick smirk with Alex. “But the thing is, there’s a  _ very  _ important colleague of Alex’s here this evening. We thought he was going to be away on a business trip, but his plans changed last minute, which meant we  _ had  _ to make sure there was room for him tonight, it would have caused quite the faux pas otherwise! Unfortunately, that does mean that we no longer have room for Florence here this evening. I’m very sorry, I could have sworn I’d sent the message to let you know, I didn’t want you getting all dressed up and coming out here for nothing. You do look very nice, though.”   
There’s a distinctly uncomfortable pause.

“Oh,” Florence says quietly, her eyes rapidly filling with tears as she flushes with humiliation. 

“ _ What? _ ” Alfred asks, outraged. “You invited all three of us, Pippa! You can’t just  _ uninvite  _ Florence when she’s already here!”

“Well, as I said, I apologise for forgetting to send the message earlier,” Pippa says brightly, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “Obviously this is a bit of an uncomfortable situation that would have been best avoided. But the fact is, we have to take somebody off the guest list to accommodate Alex’s  _ very _ important colleague. And to be honest, Florence here was a bit of a last-minute addition to the guest list, so she seemed the simplest option. No offence, of course, Florence,” she adds, with sugary malice. 

“You can’t - “ Alfred starts, but Pippa quickly cuts him off.

“I think you’ll find that as organisers of the event, we have the authority to adjust our own guest list at our discretion, Alfred,” she says sweetly. “As Florence does work here at the cafe, though, I’m sure she can join the caterers in the kitchen if she likes. That way she won’t have to go back home and she’ll get to work the party, even if she can’t sit down as a guest. And we’re happy to pay her for her services, obviously.” 

Alfred stands frozen, staring at Pippa and Alex as they exchange smirks. He can’t think of a bad enough word to call them. 

What does Pippa even  _ get  _ from hurting Florence like this? Is this just because Will thwarted her bullshit when she didn’t invite Alfred last time, so now she’s decided that the best way to taunt him is indirectly, through hurting his friend? That would explain why she gave Florence an invitation only to retract it at the very last minute - she didn’t want to have her arm twisted again. Plus, it’s maximally humiliating for Florence this way. 

Alfred looks at her, seeing the way she’s desperately trying to blink back tears, looking like she wants nothing more than to sink into the ground. He wants to help her, to get her out of this incredibly uncomfortable situation, but he’s so angry right now that he can’t even think of the right words. 

How could anybody be quite this  _ petty?  _

“Congratulations, Alex, Pippa,” says Edward politely, coming up behind Alfred. “Did Alfred give you our…”

He trails off quickly, evidently sensing the enormous tension.

“Have I missed something?” he asks, frowning.

Alfred is too disgusted to speak. 

“Hi, Edward,” Pippa says chirpily. “I was just explaining to Alfred and Florence here that we’ve had a very important last-minute guest that we had to accommodate, so unfortunately Alex and I had to make the tough decision that there’s no room for Florence at the party anymore. I meant to send a message in advance, but it seems to have slipped my mind amidst all the chaos, so I was just apologising for that. I did explain that she’ll still be able to help out with the catering, though, if she doesn’t want to make the trip back home. I’m sure we can find a spare apron for her somewhere.” 

“Oh,” Edward says, sounding rather stunned. Alfred continues to wordlessly glare at Pippa, but she keeps smirking, entirely unaffected by his fury.

“It’s fine,” Florence pipes up, her voice strained with unshed tears. “Really, it doesn’t matter, guys. I can just catch an Uber back home…”

“But Florence is my plus-one,” Edward announces suddenly. 

_ “What?”  _ Alfred and Pippa exclaim simultaneously. Florence stares at him, wide-eyed.

Edward looks convincingly baffled by their shock.

“I brought Florence here as my plus-one,” he repeats. “She’s here as my date this evening. And I’d really rather my plus-one was able to spend the evening having fun with me, instead of working in the kitchens. Florence has worked hard setting this party up, she shouldn’t have to work  _ through _ it as well. Surely it won’t be too much trouble to set up one more chair for my plus-one, right? Alex?” 

Alfred and Florence wait with bated breath as Alex shifts awkwardly, glancing at Pippa as though he can’t think of any counter-argument. 

“I don’t see why not,” Alex answers finally. “We can manage to sort out one more chair, can’t we, Pips? For Eddie? If Florence is here as his date?”

Pippa’s smirk has vanished, leaving her looking as though she’s sucking on a lemon. 

“Fine. Whatever,” she snaps. “I have other guests to see to, so why don’t  _ you  _ go find a chair for lovely Florence here, Alex?” 

“Um...okay,” he mutters, looking slightly scared. “Follow me, guys.”

“How  _ very  _ obliging of you, Pippa,” Alfred says brightly, smirking widely as she glares at him. 

Once Alex has seated them at a table and reluctantly walked back to deal with his fiance’s wrath, Florence turns to Edward. She’s beaming, flushed with happiness, Alfred notices, looking at Edward with wide eyes as though she’s never seen him before. 

“Thank you, thank you,  _ thank  _ you,” she whispers. 

Edward smiles back at her. 

“Glad I could help,” he responds. “You’ve worked hard, Florence, you deserve to have a night off to enjoy this party with us. And Pippa had absolutely no right to treat you like that. That was completely out of line.”

Florence beams even more brightly. 

“Thank you,” she whispers again. 

“Why don’t you have a look at the menu?” Edward asks, smiling as he passes one along to her. She takes it gratefully.

“What?” Edward asks, sensing Alfred looking at him and turning to meet his gaze. 

Alfred is still speechless as he stares at him. He already knew Edward was a sweetheart, of course, but this....the way he had jumped in to save Florence from humiliation without a second thought…

Sometimes his pride in his best friend overwhelms him, Alfred thinks to himself, feeling warmth swelling up inside his chest. 

“Edward…” he starts, searching for the right words. “You’re amazing, you know that, right?” 

“Oh, shush,” Edward replies, beaming even as he blushes scarlet. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will unexpectedly comes to Florence's rescue. 
> 
> Florence confesses to Alfred that she has developed feelings for a certain tall dark someone. Alfred organises an evening to try and help her get to know her new crush a bit better - but as it turns out, he may not be quite as in the loop as he'd thought he was...

_Two Weeks Later_

Sitting sideways on the sofa with his legs casually draped over Edward’s lap, busy trying to figure out what the hell his uni reading is going on about, Alfred jumps a little as his phone suddenly begins to vibrate violently in his pocket.  
Weird...people usually text him instead of calling. In fact, the only person who ever really calls him is Edward, when he’s out at the supermarket and he can’t remember exactly what it was that Alfred had told him he had a desperate craving for. And, well, he’s pretty sure it’s not Edward this time, given Edward’s sitting right next to him with his forearms resting lightly on top of the blanket over Alfred’s legs, head turned away from the TV for a moment as he frowns slightly.

“Who’s calling you at this hour?” Edward asks. “It’s nearly ten!”  
“Good question,” Alfred responds, fishing his phone out of his pocket, grinning a little at his best friend’s scandalised tone. He feels another little jolt of surprise as he reads the name on his illuminated screen. “Huh. And the answer is Will, apparently.”  
“Will?” Edward echoes sharply. “Will Peel?”  
“How many Wills do we know?” Alfred asks, raising his eyebrows. “I’d better see what he wants - can you mute that for a moment, please?”  
Edward grumbles, looking more than a little disgruntled. He loves watching Question Time on BBC, so much so that Alfred often finds himself watching along with him even though he personally finds it tedious, because otherwise he’ll miss an hour of Edward’s company in the evenings.  
But now, with Alfred giving him his best puppy eyes, Edward sighs and reluctantly obeys, muting the program. He stands up and stretches, shuffling over towards the kitchen a little awkwardly, even though he’s just finished cleaning dinner up, as though he’s trying to find an excuse to give Alfred a bit of space and privacy while he talks to Will.

“Hey, Will,” Alfred says as he picks up the call, trying not to sound overly curious or eager. “What’s up? How’s London?”  
“It was pretty good, thanks,” Will’s voice responds.  
“Was?” Alfred asks, immediately picking up on the past tense.  
“Well, yeah,” Will answers, and Alfred can tell just from his tone that he’s grinning. “I just drove back into Highbury, not half an hour ago.”  
“Oh,” Alfred says lamely.  
He’s not really sure what reaction Will is looking for here - or why he’s suddenly calling so late at night, given that he had blatantly flirted with him and then ghosted him as soon as he had left town.  
“Yeah,” says Will. “Listen, Alfred, I know it’s kind of late, but would it be okay if I swung by your place quickly?”  
“I…” Alfred begins hesitantly.  
He looks over at Edward, who’s standing at the kitchen counter scrolling through his own phone, shoulders slightly hunched, face carefully neutral, as though he’s determined to show that he’s tuning Alfred’s conversation out.  
Alfred sighs slightly, wondering how he’s going to politely turn Will down, whether he even has the emotional energy right now to call him out on his ghosting and his mixed signals.  
“Listen, Will, I just…”  
“Only I’ve got a visitor to deliver to you,” Will says suddenly, catching Alfred completely off-guard.  
“A visitor?” he echoes bemusedly. Edward looks over at him despite himself, catching on to his tone; meeting his eyes, Alfred shrugs his bewilderment.  
“Yes indeed - your gorgeous friend Florence,” Will clarifies. Alfred can tell that he’s smirking. “She’s sitting next to me in the passenger seat right now, in fact.”  
“Wait...what?” Alfred asks.  
He knows that Florence had gone down to London for the day to visit an old friend; she’d texted him about an hour ago to say that her phone was almost dead, but her train was about to pull into Highbury and she was all good.  
“Wait, back up for a second, Will,” he continues./ “What’s Flo doing with you?”  
“Ouch,” Will responds, and Alfred can tell his smirk is widening. “I’m not that bad, you know, Alfred.”  
“I know, I just meant -”  
“I happened to see her as I was driving past the station,” Will continues, cutting him off. “And it’s lucky I did, too, this lovely lady was in a bit of a sticky situation, weren’t you?”  
“What?!” Alfred asks, alarmed. He hears Florence saying something faintly in the background.  
“Don’t worry, she’s alright now; just a bit shaken up, that’s all,” Will clarifies. “As I said, it’s lucky I was there to be her gallant knight in shining armour.” Alfred rolls his eyes. “But I figured, given she’s probably in need of some hot tea and blankets and hugs, there’s probably no better place for me to take her than your apartment - assuming that’s okay?”  
“Well, yeah, of course it is,” Alfred says hastily, still struggling to catch up to speed with the situation. “Obviously I want to make sure she’s okay - but what actually happened, Will? You haven’t told me anything yet!”  
“Bit of a long story,” Will says shortly. “It’s probably better if I get her over to yours quickly so she can relax properly. I’ll explain when I get there, alright?”  
“Well...okay, yeah,” Alfred agrees reluctantly.  
“Great!” Will replies brightly.  
“Wait, but hang on, Will, can you at least tell me…”  
Too late; the line beeps as Will hangs up.  
Alfred pauses for a moment, before throwing his phone down onto the coffee table with a sigh.  
“Fuck’s sake,” he mutters.

“What’s going on?” Edward asks, looking utterly bemused. “Did I just hear you say that Flo is with him?”  
“Yeah, apparently,” Alfred answers with a shrug. “He’s only just got back from London; he said he happened to see her when he was driving past the station. He’s driving her over here now.”  
“Now?” Edward echoes, looking incredulously at his watch and then back at Alfred. “Why?”  
“Apparently she’s a bit shaken up. Will said she was in ‘a bit of a sticky situation’ when he found her.”  
“What?” Edward exclaims, sounding as anxious as Alfred feels. “A sticky situation? Well, what the hell does that mean? That could be anything!”  
“I know,” Alfred says with a sigh. “Obviously I asked him what had happened - he just told me it was a long story and he’d explain properly when they get here. He hung up before I could ask him anything else.”  
“Well, is she okay?” Edward asks worriedly.  
Alfred shrugs, looking at him with wide, anxious eyes.  
“Will says she’s alright, just still a bit shaken up. But...”  
“I’ll feel better when I can see for myself,” Edward says fervently.  
“I know. Me too,” Alfred answers quietly, feeling another rush of pride in his thoughtful and caring best friend as he speaks.

Both feeling rather tense, they don’t say much to each other as they wait for Will and Florence to arrive. Alfred struggles to resist the temptation to check his phone, telling himself that Will is driving and he clearly isn’t planning on elaborating until he arrives. And Florence is presumably still in some shock, so he shouldn’t expect to hear from her.  
When the doorbell finally rings, it feels to Alfred as if almost an hour has passed, even if in reality it’s probably around twenty minutes after Will had hung up.  
He makes a beeline for the door, but Edward gets there first with his longer legs, wrenching it open.  
Alfred is relieved to see that Florence doesn’t look hurt at all, although she certainly looks shaken, and rather paler than usual. His attention is immediately drawn to the fact that Will has one arm wrapped around her shoulders.  
“Special delivery,” Will says with a grin. “Got the patient here, safe and sound.”  
“Flo, how are you?” Alfred asks quickly. “What happened??”  
“Give her a moment to breathe, Alf,” Edward admonishes him. “Florence, come sit on the sofa with a blanket, I’ll make you a tea. Or something stronger if you’d prefer?”  
“Tea would be lovely, thank you,” Florence answers quietly.  
“Do you need to lean on me?”  
Florence smiles up at Edward, gratefully taking the arm he proffers and allowing him to lead her over to the sofa.  
Alfred feels a peculiar little uneasy lurch in his stomach as he watches them. But that’s only to be expected, he supposes, when Florence is looking so pale.  
“Here, let me get you some extra cushions, at least,” he murmurs, plumping them up for her, wanting to be useful.  
“Thank you, Alfred,” Florence says with a little smile.  
“Here you are, Flo,” Edward announces a few moments later. “Earl Grey, piping hot with a splash of honey, just the way you like it.”  
Florence beams at him, the colour starting to come back to her cheeks as she takes a sip. Edward takes a seat next to her on the sofa.

“You feeling a bit better now, Flo?” Alfred asks gently, sitting down on a chair opposite the two of them.  
“I am a bit, thanks, Alfred,” she replies, taking another sip of her tea.  
“So, can I ask what happened?” he asks, a little awkwardly. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he adds hastily.  
“No, I’m happy to tell you,” Florence answers quietly. “You see, my phone was dead when I got back into Highbury Station - which made me a bit anxious, but it would have been fine, I just needed to catch a bus back to my apartment. The thing is, the station was almost completely deserted, and there was nobody else waiting at the bus stop except for this...this guy. This really big guy, who was clearly pretty drunk. And he started talking to me - you know, asking me what a pretty girl like me was doing out all alone, asking me for my number - you know how some men can be. And at first he just seemed a bit ridiculous, but then when I tried to make it clear that I wasn’t interested - well, that’s when he started to get pushy. Aggressive, you know? Like he wasn’t prepared to take no for an answer.”  
Alfred curls his hands into fists instinctively, feeling disgust and fury roiling in his stomach. He exchanges a glance with Edward, seeing immediately from his face that Edward is feeling exactly the same way.  
“Anyway, his voice was getting really loud, and he was kind of starting to close the distance between us, and it felt like he was trying to corner me, you know?”  
Florence’s voice is starting to get higher, more panicky, even as she recounts the story, her hands shaking slightly. She pauses and takes a deep breath.  
“I suppose it wasn’t such a big deal, really,” she says with a little laugh, as though she’s trying to soothe herself by pretending that she wasn’t in danger. “It just...gave me a bit of a fright, that’s all.”  
“Of course it was a big deal, Flo,” Edward says gently. “You don’t have to downplay it - it’s completely reasonable for you to have felt scared in a situation like that. That man, whoever he was, sounds utterly entitled and vile. He had absolutely no right to try and push himself on you and make you feel threatened.”  
“Bloody right he was entitled and vile,” Will growls.  
“So that was the ‘sticky situation’ you found her in?” Alfred asks him.  
“Yeah, that’s about the gist of it,” Will responds. “Florence was all alone at the bus stop with that piece of scum. I could see that he was being an aggressive dick, that he was much too close to her - and I could see how scared she looked. So I parked the car, got out, called out to her and came to put my arm around her, putting myself between them. Pretended to be her boyfriend, coming to pick her up. Then I looked at that dickhead, told him that I did not appreciate what I had just seen at all, and calmly explained to him that he had two seconds to fuck off before I punched him in the face. He glared at me, but then he scarpered pretty damn quickly. Apparently he was a bloody coward as well as being a piece of shit. Anyway, I could see that Florence here was still pretty shaken up, and I asked her if she would feel a bit better if I drove her over to hang out with you guys for a bit. She seemed pretty keen on that, so I called you and, well, you already know the rest of the story. I’m just bloody glad I happened to be driving past the station right at that moment.”  
“So am I,” Alfred agrees fervently.  
“And me,” Florence adds quietly.  
Will smiles gently at her and Florence smiles back at him.

Alfred looks between the two of them, feeling his own tension fading, a curious kind of excitement starting to take its place.  
He’s been wondering ever since Will had texted asking about his ‘gorgeous’ friend Florence whether he’d been developing feelings for her, whether, in fact, it had been Florence he’d come to see at the cafe on the day he left for London, and not Alfred at all. And Florence certainly didn’t object to Will’s attentions, judging by the way she had reacted when Alfred had read his text aloud to her.  
He’d definitely started to think there might have been the beginnings of a mutual crush developing between them, but he’d figured there probably wasn’t anything serious on either side yet. And given that Will had gone away to London for an indefinite amount of time, Alfred had also wondered if whatever feelings there might be between Will and Florence would just end up flickering out before they had a chance to grow.  
But now Will was suddenly back in town - without mentioning to Alfred that he was coming back, so clearly Alfred was no longer the first thing on his mind, if he ever had been - and the very first thing he’d done was to swoop in and rescue Florence when she was in urgent need of help!  
It hasn’t escaped Alfred’s notice that Will had pretended to be Florence’s boyfriend, either. Presumably he could have managed to make the asshole back off without making that particular claim, if he’d wanted to...had Will said that because he wished it was true? Plus, he’d still had an arm around her when they arrived - was he just trying to comfort her, or was there something more to it than that?  
And the way the two of them are smiling at each other now....It’s lucky Alfred has already realised that he doesn’t have feelings for Will, because he thinks it’s safe to say that he’s definitely not the focus of Will’s attention right now.  
But it’s hardly surprising, he thinks - if these two were already starting to develop feelings for each other before, a situation like this, with Will playing Florence’s dashing, gallant hero, seems almost perfectly designed to help those feelings blossom into love.

“Well, I’m very glad you’re okay, Flo,” Edward says quietly. “And I’m glad you were there to help her too, Will,” he adds, a little begrudgingly. “Thank you for taking care of her.”  
“You’re welcome, Drummond,” Will replies, looking rather taken aback that Edward is acknowledging him.  
Edward purses his lips a little, before glancing down at his watch.  
“It’s pretty late, Flo, it’s almost eleven. Do you want to just stay over here tonight? I’m sure it will do you good to relax here.”  
Florence beams at him, flushing.  
“Really? I would love that, Edward - that is, if you’re sure it won’t be any trouble?”  
“Don’t be silly, Flo, of course it won’t be any trouble!” Alfred pipes up. “You’re more than welcome - we want to take care of you!”  
“Well then - thank you, both of you,” Florence answers, smiling at Edward again.  
“Don’t mention it,” Edward replies, smiling back at her.  
“Now that you mention it, it is pretty late, I should probably get going,” Will says, standing up and stretching his long limbs. “I’ll be missed otherwise.”  
“You’ve been a real hero tonight, Will,” Alfred responds, grinning at him.  
“I’m always a hero, Alfred Paget,” Will answers in a tone of mock indignation, smirking.  
“Of course you are,” Alfred replies, rolling his eyes.  
“Thank you so much for helping me, Will,” Florence says, smiling up at him.  
“You can call on me any time, Florence,” Will tells her, bending down to kiss her on the cheek. Alfred turns away slightly to hide his own smirk. “Take care of yourself for me, won’t you?” he asks seriously.  
Florence laughs a little sheepishly.  
“I’ll try my best.”  
“Thanks again for helping her, Will,” Edward adds, reluctantly proffering his hand. Looking a little astonished, Will shakes it.  
“Goodness me, gratitude from a beautiful woman and two gorgeous men, in one night? Maybe I should try this whole hero lark more often, eh?”  
He winks, and Edward’s jaw tightens.  
“Okay, I think that’s probably my cue to escort you out, Will,” Alfred pipes up hastily, grinning. Smirking slightly, Will walks with him to the door.  
“Seriously, though, Will. Thanks,” he says quietly.  
“Anytime,” Will answers with another wink. Pulling his leather jacket on, he strolls out of the apartment with his hands in his pockets, whistling. Alfred closes the door gently behind him.  
“That’s better. Quieter now,” Edward observes. Florence giggles, and he smiles at her. “Okay, well, if you’re staying over, Flo, I’d better go set up the bed in the spare room,” he says, stretching. “And I’ll see if I can find you some spare pyjamas as well.”  
“Thank you so much,” she says, smiling up at him.  
“No problem at all,” he responds, smiling back. “I’ll be back before too long - just give me a shout if you need anything, okay?”  
She nods, and Edward reaches out to squeeze her shoulder gently and reassuringly before turning and heading down the corridor.

“So,” Alfred says, turning to Florence and fussing over her a little, plumping up her cushions. “Can I get you anything else, while we’re waiting for Edward to set the spare room up? Do you want another tea or anything?”  
“No thank you, I’m alright,” she answers. She does look far calmer than she did when she arrived. She hesitates slightly. “Actually,” she says, as if she’s just come to a decision on the spot, “now that we’re alone, can I tell you something, Alfred? I’ve just...well, I’ve had something on my chest for a little while now, and I’d love your advice.”  
“Of course!” Alfred answers, sitting down next to her on the sofa, immediately feeling his curiosity pique. “You can always tell me things, Flo, you know that!”  
She smiles at him gratefully.  
“I do know that. Well, the thing is….I think that I might be developing feelings again. Feelings for somebody new, I mean.”  
Alfred grins.  
“I see,” he says, struggling not to look too pleased with his own deductive skills. “Well, I can’t say I’m completely shocked.”  
“You’re not?” Florence asks, looking surprised, and then anxious. “Have I been that obvious?!”  
“No no, don’t worry, you haven’t been too obvious at all!” Alfred reassures her. “But I think it’s only natural that you would start to get feelings for somebody after you’ve been in a horrible situation, and they were the one who stepped in to rescue you!”  
“I guess it is natural,” Florence says, looking relieved that she doesn’t have to explain any further, that Alfred already understands. “Oh Alfred, I can’t even begin to describe how it felt! To go from feeling so awful, so small one moment, to feeling so wonderfully happy and safe and seen the next! I had never felt so horrible as I did in that moment - but then he came along, and suddenly everything was okay again, you know?”  
“I can imagine,” Alfred says, grinning excitedly at her. “And it doesn’t hurt that he’s tall and dark and handsome either, does it?”  
“He’s gorgeous,” Florence sighs.  
“Well - yeah, he’s definitely pretty easy on the eyes,” Alfred responds.  
“So? Do you think there might be a chance that he might have feelings for me too?” Florence asks excitedly. “Or is that just wishful thinking?”  
Alfred hesitates slightly, remembering the promise he’d given her in the aftermath of the Pippa Disaster months ago.  
“I told you once before that I was going to try not to meddle too much in your love life, didn’t I?”  
Florence’s face falls a little.  
“Well, yes, but -”  
“So I’ll try to give you some advice without butting in too much, because your relationship with him is entirely up to you, not me,” he says. “In fact, we don’t even need to say this guy’s name - I mean, we’re both on the same page here, right?”  
“Right,” Florence agrees with a grin.  
“But as far as I can see,” Alfred continues, “the experience that the two of you have shared could be a perfect start to a relationship. I think, from observing the signs, there’s every chance that he might have feelings for you too - I don’t think that’s wishful thinking at all.”  
“Really?” Florence asks breathlessly, beaming at him. “Oh, Alfred, you really think so?”  
“I really think so,” he answers, smiling at the look on her face. “You should go for it.”  
“But I’m kind of nervous to make a move…” she says hesitantly.  
“Well then, take it slow if you want,” Alfred says with a shrug. “Test the waters, see what signals he gives you. You can go at whatever pace you feel comfortable with. But you should absolutely let him know how you feel at some point. Because I think the two of you could be really good together.”  
“I hope so,” Florence sighs. “Thank you so much, Alfred!”  
“Any time,” he replies with a grin. “Oh, and Edward has told me not to meddle in people’s love lives anymore - so remember, this conversation never happened. Got it?” He winks, and Florence laughs.  
“Got it,” she agrees.

“What’s going on?” Edward asks as he walks back into the living room. “What are you two up to? You’re not talking about me, are you?”  
Alfred sighs dramatically.  
“Gosh, Edward, not everything is about you, you know,” he says, rolling his eyes at Florence. For some reason, she tries to stifle a giggle, blushing.  
“Well, I should hope not,” Edward fires back at him. “Anyway, Flo, your bed’s all set up in the spare room, I’ll show you the way.”  
“Night, Flo,” Alfred says, giving her a one-armed hug.  
“Goodnight, Alfred - and thank you,” she responds.  
“Any time.”  
Alfred lies back on the sofa, watching as Florence eagerly follows Edward down the corridor.

* * *

“Hey, Edward?” Alfred asks innocently, wandering into the kitchen where his roommate is cooking dinner.  
“Yeah?” Edward asks absentmindedly, apparently more focused on his risotto.  
“You’re free this Saturday night, right?”  
“Yeah, I think so,” he replies. “Why?”  
“I’ve just invited Flo to come and hang out here - you don’t mind hanging out with the two of us, right?”  
“Of course I don’t mind hanging out with you and Flo, Alf,” Edward answers, rolling his eyes and grinning a little as he stirs the risotto.  
“Cool,” Alfred says, dropping down into a seat at the kitchen counter. “Oh, and can I invite Will as well, please?”  
Edward whips sharply around to face him. Now Alfred has his full attention, it seems.  
“What? Will Peel? You want to invite him too? Why?”  
“Um, because I enjoy spending time with him?” Alfred suggests. “And so does Flo. I thought, after he became her hero the other night, they might like to spend some more time together. They’re two people who are important to me, Edward, and I’d like them to get to know each other a little better.”  
Edward frowns at him, as though he’s trying to work out what Alfred is playing at.  
“Alfred…”  
“You were fine with him the other night!” he points out. “You even thanked him for helping Flo, remember?”  
“Well, yeah, I did, but…”  
“Don’t you think he deserves an invitation to come and hang out and have fun with us, then? Wouldn’t it be a bit petty not to invite him?”  
Edward wrinkles his nose, going silent for a moment as he considers Alfred’s words. He sighs.  
“Fine, you can invite Will Peel,” he huffs.  
“Yes!” Alfred cheers, already excited at the prospect of helping Will and Florence’s budding romance to blossom. “Thank you - I’ll tell him now!”  
“As long as I can invite James too,” Edward adds.  
Alfred freezes.  
“James? James Grey?”  
“Yep, that’s the one,” Edward says cheerfully, turning back to his risotto.  
“But why?” he complains.  
“Well, you’re bringing two friends,” Edward says, shrugging.  
“Florence is your friend too!” Alfred protests.  
“I know she is,” Edward replies. “But I like spending time with James as well, he’s good company. And if I have to spend time with Will Peel, I’d kind of prefer it if I could have another friend here. To balance him out.”  
Alfred searches for an excuse, knowing that he can hardly complain that he doesn’t like James Perfect Grey, for no particular reason, when he’d just accused Edward of pettiness for not wanting to invite Will.  
“But Will isn’t really a fan of James…” he tries.  
Edward frowns at him, as if he knows exactly what Alfred is really thinking.  
“So? Will can cope. If you tell him that James is invited too and he decides not to come, well, that’s his lookout, isn’t it? Anyway, if Will is busy ‘getting to know Florence better,’ as you say, well, he won’t even need to interact with James very much, will he? I’m sure James and I can keep each other entertained.”  
Alfred hesitates. He can’t really think of any other excuses. And he supposes, given that Edward doesn’t particularly want Will to come over, it’s only fair…  
“Fine. You can invite James too,” he says reluctantly.  
“How thoughtful of you, Alf,” Edward replies.  
“Oh, shut up,” Alfred huffs.  
Edward grins as he turns back to the frying pan.

* * *

Three Days Later

“So, your aunt is feeling better, then?” Edward asks.  
James chuckles a little as he accepts the wine glass Edward is passing him.  
“She is, I think. Not that she’d ever actually admit that; she has a bit of a martyr complex, as you might have noticed.”  
“You don’t say,” Alfred comments wryly.  
James hesitates slightly, looking awkwardly at Alfred as though he’s not entirely sure whether he’s trying to make a serious dig or not.  
“Ignore him, James, he’s just teasing,” Edward reassures him with a grin, sitting down on the sofa opposite James.  
“Yes, ignore me,” Alfred mutters to himself, taking another sip of wine.  
He can’t quite remember what number he’s on. His second? His third, maybe? He thought drinking might help him feel a bit less annoyed. Will is running late. Of course Will is running late.

Perhaps he should have seen this coming. Will had seemed a bit weird when Alfred had told him that James was invited too.  
He knows that James isn’t exactly Will’s favourite person, but he’d figured that wouldn’t be enough to stop Will from coming. He’d said he’d come. And surely, the excitement of seeing Florence would be enough to outweigh the weirdness of having to hang out with James? But seeing as it’s coming up for half an hour since he told Will to arrive, and there’s been no new text from him yet, perhaps Alfred had miscalculated.  
If Will bails on him and Florence, and Alfred has to spend the whole evening making small talk with James Grey, who seems to radiate discomfort around him, for some reason...there’s no point to this evening if Will doesn’t show up!

“And how is Mina doing?” Florence asks, smiling at James as she sits herself down next to Edward.  
“Mina’s been doing alright, although our aunt has been running her off her feet with all her demands, poor girl,” James responds, rolling his eyes a little. “I think she’s really enjoying her studies at the moment, though.” He pauses, tilting his head slightly as he looks at Florence. “I think she told me that you two are at the same uni? Have you not been seeing her around there?”  
“Um...not much recently, no,” Florence answers awkwardly. “And she stopped coming to the cafe a while ago as well. I kind of miss her, actually.”  
“I think she’s been missing you, too,” James responds, smiling at her. “Mina’s very fond of you, you know.”  
Florence smiles awkwardly, with half a glance in Alfred’s direction. Alfred tenses slightly.  
“So, tell me how your work’s been going, James!” Edward says hastily. “You told me you just started with a new charity, right? Are you finding it hard working remotely?”  
Alfred sighs to himself as James cheerfully starts explaining to Edward exactly how much his company is hoping to raise working with the new charity. Great, he thinks, draining his glass of wine. Sitting here listening to James telling stories about his perfect life - in his own perfectly modest way, of course. This is just how Alfred had wanted this evening to go.

The doorbell suddenly ringing jerks him out of his irritated drowsiness. Alfred grins.  
“I’ll get it!” he says hastily, plonking his wine glass haphazardly down on the table as he darts over to open the front door.  
Will is standing there, looking ridiculously handsome as ever in a dark henley shirt and tight jeans, holding a bottle of wine in his hands, which he proffers to Alfred.  
“My compliments to the host,” he says with a little mock bow.  
“Thanks,” Alfred says, taking the bottle. “Where have you been? I thought you’d gotten lost or something!”  
“My apologies,” Will responds, not looking remotely abashed. “I was held up by my blessed father.”  
“Oh...what happened?” Alfred asks sympathetically.  
“Don’t worry about it, I won’t bore you with the details,” he answers airily, dodging the question.  
Although he’s clearly trying to appear unfazed by whatever happened, Alfred can tell he’s still tense or nervous about something, judging by the way he’s fidgeting slightly and running a hand almost absentmindedly through his hair.  
“Well, I think Florence has been pretty excited to see you,” Alfred says, grinning as he tries to distract him.  
Will looks a little taken aback for a moment.  
“She has, has she?” he asks, looking rather smug. “She wanted to see her knight in shining armour again, I take it?”  
“Something like that, I think,” Alfred answers with a grin, leading Will into the living room.

“Evening, everyone - apologies for my lateness,” Will announces loudly to the room at large. “Florence - how are you, lovely?” He swoops down to kiss her on the cheek, and Alfred grins. “Are you feeling a bit better than you were the other night? Alfred here seems to think you were excited to see me!”  
Edward’s jaw tightens as Florence glances over at Alfred.  
“He said that, did he?” Florence asks, smiling. “Well, I think we’re all excited to see you, Will. And yes, I’m definitely feeling better now - thanks to you being my hero the other night.”  
“That’s me, always saving the day,” Will responds, with a grin and a wink.  
“What happened the other night?” asks James.  
“Oh, it’s a long story, and I think perhaps Miss Kerr here would rather we didn’t rehash the whole thing,” Will says, exchanging a silent look with James.  
Alfred watches in surprise and irritation as Will settles down next to James on the sofa. He’d been hoping he would sit down next to Florence - after all, that’s the whole reason Alfred had invited him tonight, so he could get to know her better. To be fair, it’s not Will’s fault that the space next to Florence is already taken by Edward - in fact, the two of them are squished quite tightly together at the moment, as it’s not a very big sofa.  
It seems to Alfred that if Florence wants to make a move on Will and show him she’s interested, as she had implied the other day, she might make a bit more of an effort now to flirt and cosy up to him.  
But Will being stuck next to James Grey certainly isn’t what Alfred had had in mind. He’s well aware of Will’s opinions on James, and he doesn’t want to make this evening any more awkward than it has to be.  
“So, James,” Will says airily, reaching out to grab some crisps from the bowl on the coffee table, “how’s the new guitar? Have you figured out yet who the mysterious sender might be? They must be pretty keen on you!”  
Alfred cringes slightly, waiting for James’s offended and self-righteous reaction at the implication of the question. He’s pretty sure this topic is very much one that James will classify as ‘none of their business’.  
To his surprise, though, James doesn’t look offended at Will’s impertinence at all. He grins a little, flushing slightly even as he rolls his eyes.  
“I’m loving the new guitar. And yes, it’s very mysterious.”  
Still grinning, James helps himself to crisps too.

“So, Will, want to tell us a bit more about your adventures in London?” Alfred says hastily. “You didn’t get a chance to tell us much the other night. Tell us the gossip, Flo and I have been dying to know!”  
“Well, there was a mixer event at the offices the other night,” Will says with a grin. “There was quite a lot of complementary champagne flowing, so I can’t pretend I remember much. But if I am remembering correctly, I think my boss might have mentioned something about an opportunity to spend some time working in Australia in about two months’ time. He said something about photography opportunities around the Great Barrier Reef, if I’m not mistaken. And he wanted me to do some filming and documenting in the Simpson Desert as well, I think. He knows I’ve got experience with deserts. Though, given I did strip off last time I was travelling in the desert in Rajasthan, not sure why he trusts me to be on camera. Maybe I somehow managed to keep that a secret from him,” he muses.  
“Your boss wants you to travel in Australia?” Alfred asks, trying not to sound too disappointed. “You never stay still, do you?”  
“Actually, I was thinking I might turn the offer down this time,” Will replies.  
“What? Why?” Alfred asks, surprised.  
Will shrugs.  
“I guess I’d just miss people back home a lot,” he says evasively.  
He briefly glances sideways at James, just as Alfred turns to beam at Florence.  
Will would miss ‘people back home,’ would he? Or perhaps one person in particular? Florence smiles back at Alfred, looking a little puzzled, and Alfred tries not to sigh. He loves Florence, but sometimes he wishes she could be a little quicker on the uptake. Will must be pretty damn keen on her, if he’s genuinely prepared to turn down what sounds like an amazing adventure because he doesn’t want to be away from her for too long!

“I’m going to go and fetch some more wine,” Edward pipes up, grimacing a little as he usually does after prolonged exposure to Will Peel. He gets up from the sofa, stretching. “I’ll be back in a moment.”  
“I’ll help!” Florence says immediately, beaming at him as she leaps up from the sofa too.  
Alfred frowns at her slightly.  
“I’m sure Edward will be fine by himself, Flo, it’s not really a two-person job. Didn’t you want to hear about Will’s stories from London?”  
“Oh, leave her alone, Alf,” Edward reprimands him gently. “I’d be happy to have your help, thanks, Flo,” he says, turning to her and smiling. She beams back at him, following him over to the kitchen.  
Alfred stares over at the two of them, Edward merrily chatting to Florence, Florence giggling a little as she takes out the glasses.  
He wishes he could just explain to Edward that he’s getting in the way right now, that he should be helping to nudge Florence towards Will, but, well, he’d promised that he was going to try to stop meddling in her love life. He knows Edward wouldn’t be best pleased with him for trying to help set Will and Flo up; he’d probably think Flo was much too good for Will. And he’d almost certainly tell Alfred that it was none of his business anyway.  
“Wait, what was that you said before about Rajasthan?” he hears James asking Will behind him. “Did you just say you stripped off?”  
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Grey,” Will replies, smirking a little as he drains his wine glass.  
“Were you alone? Or was this in front of other people?” James asks, sounding almost impressed.  
“Guess,” Will answers, his smirk growing wider.  
“Oh good grief,” James huffs, sounding half amused, half exasperated.  
“I’m just gonna go and help the other two in the kitchen,” Alfred announces, frustration driving him to impulsiveness. “I won’t be a minute.”

“What are you two doing?” he hisses at Edward and Florence in an undertone once he reaches the kitchen. “What’s taking so long?”  
Edward appears to be showing Florence something on his phone - the two of them look up, both looking rather startled at Alfred’s obvious annoyance.  
“We’re getting more wine, Alf, I told you,” says Edward, looking bemused.  
“What are you doing huddling around that phone, then?” Alfred demands.  
“Edward was just showing me a funny video that his sister sent him, that’s all,” Florence explains, sounding a little breathless.  
“The one with Charlotte pretending to be Boris Johnson?” Alfred asks.  
“The one with Charlotte pretending to be Boris Johnson,” Edward confirms.  
Alfred can’t help but grin a little at the mere memory of that video. Charlotte Drummond does have a pretty incredible talent for mimicry. But there’s a more important issue at hand here.  
“Okay, well, hilarious as that video may be, that’s no reason for you two to be hiding away in the kitchen like this!” Alfred hisses.  
“We’re hardly hiding, Alf,” Edward protests.  
“You’ve left poor Will alone with James!” Alfred objects, looking at Florence and hoping that she’ll take the hint. “You’re probably making them both feel awkward, they don’t get along - they won’t have anything to say to each other!”  
“You left Will alone with James,” Edward points out. “And it doesn’t look like they’re particularly awkward together, from where I’m standing.”  
“What are you - ?”  
Alfred turns around to see what Edward is going on about. Still sitting next to each other on the sofa, Will and James seem to be laughing about something, their heads close together.  
Alfred stares at them for a moment, and then shakes himself a little, feeling inexplicably even more irritated than before.  
“Yeah, well, Will knows he has to behave tonight,” Alfred mutters. “Of course he’s going to be civil - but that’s still no reason to leave him hanging out with James by himself.”  
“If you say so,” Edward says, shrugging.  
“So, are you two coming back to sit with us?” Alfred huffs.  
“Of course we are,” Edward replies, rolling his eyes a little in Florence’s direction. She bites back a giggle, and Alfred feels another sharp twinge of irritation. “If you want us to hurry up, Alf, you can help us. Here, take these biscuits.”  
“Good, fine, let’s go,” Alfred mutters, taking the biscuits Edward is proffering and nudging him pointedly towards the living room.  
“Okay, okay, we’re coming!” Edward exclaims.

“You’re back!” Will exclaims dramatically. Both he and James move slightly further from each other on the sofa as the others approach. “And here we were thinking you’d forgotten all about us!”  
“Sorry about that,” Alfred replies, throwing Edward an annoyed look. “These two needed my help, apparently.”  
Edward rolls his eyes.  
“Who wants a top up?” he asks, raising the wine bottle slightly.  
“I’ll have if you’re having, Edward,” Florence says, smiling up at him. Alfred feels another inexplicable twinge of annoyance.  
“Well I never say no, Drummond, you know me,” Will says with a wink.  
“James?” Edward asks.  
“Thanks, but I’d better not, I’m driving,” James answers.  
“Spoilsport,” Will says with a pout, nudging him slightly. James rolls his eyes at him.  
As soon as Edward has poured everyone else their drinks, Alfred snatches the bottle.  
“I’ll have three,” he mutters.  
This evening is really not panning out the way he’d thought it would so far. Why is everyone being so weird?

“Anyone up for a game of Bananagrams?” Edward asks as he sits back down on the sofa, Florence immediately sitting down next to him.  
“We are not playing Bananagrams,” Alfred protests immediately, with a stern look at Edward.  
“And why not?” Edward counters, raising an eyebrow at him.  
“Because you always win and you know it,” Alfred answers. “And I’m not even sober right now, so you’re going to double win - no, triple win.”  
Edward grins mischievously at him.  
“I’m happy to play if you want to, Edward!” Florence pipes up. “At least Alfred has forewarned me that you’re going to win!”  
“Thanks, Flo,” Edward says, smiling at her. “And I don’t always win, he’s exaggerating as usual.”  
“Am not,” Alfred mutters into his wine glass. Edward’s grin widens.  
“I’m happy to play too,” says James, smiling.  
“Well then, I guess I’ll bow to peer pressure just this once,” Will sighs. “I’m pretty sure I can take you on, what do you say, Drummond?”  
Edward looks back at him, unamused. Will turns to clap Alfred on the shoulder.  
“Looks like you might be outvoted, sorry, Alfred.”  
Alfred shoots Edward a dark look. Edward looks back at him innocently.  
“Fine,” he huffs. “But remember - if I lose to you this time, Edward, it’s because I’m at least a little bit drunk.”  
“Of course, it must be that,” Edward replies with a grin, as he takes the game out and starts handing out the letter tiles.  
James stands up from the sofa suddenly.  
“Sorry, where’s your bathroom again, guys?” he asks.  
“Second on the left in the corridor,” Edward answers.  
“Thanks - is it okay if we press pause on the game quickly?” James asks. “I’ll be back in a minute.”  
“Yeah, of course, no rush,” Edward replies with a smile. James smiles back at him before walking away down the corridor.

Will stretches his limbs languidly.  
“Florence, have I mentioned you’re looking very pretty this evening?” he asks.  
Alfred grins - now that’s more like it! He turns to Florence, waiting for her to blush and stammer.  
“Aww, thank you, Will, that’s really lovely,” Florence answers, smiling at him and flushing a little. Alfred waits for her to walk over and sit in James’s recently vacated seat on the sofa next to Will, but instead, she turns back to Edward.  
“Has your sister always been that good a mimic, Edward?”  
“Oh god yes,” Edward replies, grinning as he sips his wine. “You should see how much Alfred laughs whenever she imitates me.”  
“She imitates you?” Florence asks, giggling.  
“Oh yeah,” Edward replies. “I remember when Char came face to face with the first girl I had a crush on in high school....”  
“Uh oh,” Florence says, grinning.  
“Lesson one - never tell Charlotte your secrets,” Edward says. “Or, if you do, be prepared for her to mock you mercilessly.”  
“Well, I’m sure she wouldn’t mock me,” Florence declares. “Maybe it’s just you.”  
“Well, yeah, alright, you might have a point,” Edward says with a grin.  
Florence giggles, scooting a little bit closer to him on the sofa.

Alfred pours himself another glass of wine and quickly drains it, as Edward and Florence start laughing together.  
He doesn’t know what’s going on here, but it seems to him - in his definitely entirely sober state - like everything would have been going according to plan if Edward hadn’t insisted on inviting James Bloody Grey. Florence and Will would have been sitting together happily flirting, he would have been sitting with Edward as usual, and everything would have been fine. It’s James’s presence that’s throwing everything off tonight, it must be.  
Alfred just doesn’t understand why Will seems to be getting along so well with him all of a sudden, as though he’s forgotten about telling Alfred how boring James is, as though he suddenly agrees with everyone else that James Grey is perfect and lovely.  
But James might not be all that perfect. Edward had sworn that he didn’t have any feelings for James and that the mystery guitar hadn’t come from him...so who did it come from?  
Alfred remembers again what Pippa had been saying, that the guitar might have been sent by Anna Dixon, the woman who was dating James’s best friend in London.  
And yes, Alfred knows full well that Pippa is a bitch - but that doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s always wrong, does it? It makes sense to him, now that he thinks about it - if James has been having an affair with his friend’s girlfriend, then of course the gift would have been anonymous! And when James had answered Will’s question about the guitar before...he knew exactly who the guitar had come from, Alfred could just tell. He’d seemed awfully satisfied for somebody who truly had no idea who had given him the gift. And he’d flushed slightly, too...as though he knew he was deliberately keeping a secret.

Perhaps, while James is out of the room, he’ll just subtly remind Will of what they’d discussed on the night of Pippa’s housewarming party, Alfred thinks. Maybe that will help to draw his attention back to Florence, where it should be?  
Impulsively, Alfred gets up from his chair and goes to sit next to Will in James’s recently vacated spot on the sofa, turning over some Bananagrams letter tiles, choosing a few carefully and sweeping them over in front of him on the coffee table.  
“Well, hello, stranger,” Will says, grinning at him.  
“Wanna see me do a trick with these letters?” Alfred asks him quietly.  
“A trick?” Will asks amusedly. “Should I be worried? How many glasses of wine have you had now, Alfred?”  
“I don’t know, five or six?” Alfred responds with a shrug. “I’m fine.”  
“Alf, are you messing around with your letter tiles before we start?” Edward asks, grinning. “Trying to get a head start on me?”  
“Relax, Edward, we’re not starting yet,” Alfred says, poking his tongue out at him. “We can take new tiles when James gets back.”  
Edward shrugs, turning back to Florence.  
“Oh, hey, look, I found some words,” Alfred says to Will in an undertone. “Guess I can’t be that drunk.”  
He pushes the letters towards Will, shooting him a sideways grin. Will leans in curiously to read what he’s written.  
G  
U  
DIXON  
T  
ANNA  
R

Will smirks a little secretively as he reads Alfred’s message.  
“Oh, have you guys started already?” asks James’s voice, alarmingly close to Alfred’s ear all of a sudden. Alfred freezes as he realises that James is right behind them, leaning over the back of the sofa to see what he’s showing Will.  
“What have you got there? Guitar….oh.”  
The whole room has gone quiet, Edward and Florence pausing their conversation to stare over at them. Alfred slowly and tentatively turns his head to look at James, who is looking back and forth between him and Will, as though lost for words. Alfred feels a sudden, powerful wave of guilt. He’s never seen James Grey look this confused, vulnerable and hurt before.  
“Will?” he asks, staring at him as though he’s demanding an explanation. “Did you…?”  
“No, James, I didn’t, I just…” Will stumbles over his words a little for the first time since Alfred has known him, staring back at James with an expression that looks almost pleading.  
Alfred has no clue what’s going on. Still watching James, he sees his expression darken, hurt and vulnerability giving way to anger.  
“James, we were just…” Alfred begins, not even knowing what he’s going to say.  
“Don’t worry about it, Alfred,” he says tonelessly, not even bothering to look at him.  
He turns to Edward.  
“Edward, I’m really sorry, but I’m actually not feeling so great right now. I...I think I might have to head home early.”  
“Are you sure?” Edward asks quietly.  
“Yeah,” James says, his voice suddenly sounding a little croaky. “You can go ahead and play the game without me. Have fun for me.”  
“Are you feeling okay to drive?” Edward asks. James nods quickly. “Okay, well, let me walk you out at least,” Edward says, standing up. He walks with him to the front door.  
“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, James,” he says quietly. “I hope you feel better soon.”  
“Thanks, Edward,” James responds, attempting a smile. “And thank you for inviting me tonight. Sorry for bailing like this.”  
“I hope you feel better soon, James!” Florence calls to him.  
“Yeah...feel better,” Alfred echoes awkwardly.  
“See you soon, yeah?” Edward says gently, holding his hand out.  
“Yeah,” James agrees, forcing another smile as he shakes Edward’s hand. “See you soon, Edward.”  
Edward holds the door open for him, and James practically runs out of the apartment.

“Okay, well...that was weird,” Alfred announces, turning to Will as Edward closes the door.  
“Right. Yeah.” Will mumbles. His smirk from earlier has vanished entirely. He looks a little shaken, glancing back towards the front door that James had just disappeared through.  
Edward walks up behind the sofa where Alfred and Will are sitting. Alfred turns and realises that Edward is reading the words that are still lying there on the coffee table in front of him, frowning slightly.  
G  
U  
DIXON  
T  
ANNA  
R  
Hastily, Alfred flips the letters over and shoves them into the pile in the middle of the table, trying not to let his guilt show on his face.  
“Let’s just all grab new letters and play the stupid game, okay?” he mutters, avoiding Edward’s eyes.

They play one game, with Edward winning quickly and predictably. Alfred is finding it pretty hard to concentrate, what with the six glasses of wine, and the silent tension that seems to be stretched taut over the room since James’s abrupt departure.  
“Edward wins, what a surprise,” Alfred says, trying to grin and roll his eyes as though nothing’s wrong. “So, shall we play again?”  
“Actually, to be honest, I’m kind of exhausted,” Will says suddenly, grimacing slightly as he stands up. “I think I might head off a bit early too, if that’s okay.”  
“But -” Alfred starts, stunned.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll come back and thrash Drummond at this game another time, I promise,” Will says, giving Alfred a forced grin. “I’m sorry to cut and run. Thanks for the invite.” He turns to Florence. “Florence, I’m happy to give you a lift back home, if you like? If you don’t mind leaving a little early with me, that is.”  
“Well -” Florence begins awkwardly, looking sideways at Edward.  
“That’s kind of you to offer, Will,” Alfred cuts in firmly. The evening seems to have gone to shit a little, and he still doesn’t really know what’s going on - though maybe that’s just because of the wine - but the fact that Will still wants to take Florence home is a good sign, at least. “It seems like we’re wrapping up the evening early tonight, Flo. I promise Edward and I aren’t going to be offended if you go home with Will.”  
He gives her a small wink. Florence looks a little lost, glancing from Will to Edward and back again.  
“You coming, Florence?” Will asks, giving her a small smile. He does look rather drained, actually. “I’d appreciate having your gorgeous company on the way home.”  
Florence glances at Edward with a strange expression, as though she’s seeking his permission. He just shrugs at her.  
“Well...I...okay,” she says, sighing slightly. “Thanks, Will.”  
“No problem.”  
“Let me just grab my bag…”  
Alfred walks them to the door.  
“Well...thanks for coming, guys,” he says. “Have a fun drive. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”  
“There are things you wouldn’t do?” Will replies, in a tone of mock astonishment. Alfred swats him playfully on the arm, even though he’s hardly in the mood for banter right now.  
“Take care, Flo,” Edward says quietly.  
“I will,” she says, flushing slightly.  
“And goodnight to you too, Drummond,” Will says pointedly.  
“Night,” Edward mutters reluctantly, walking away to start clearing the coffee table.  
“See you soon, guys,” Alfred says with a small shrug.

As soon as the door is closed behind the two of them, Alfred comes back into the living room and sinks onto the sofa with a loud groan.  
“God, I need another drink.”  
“One thing you do not need right now, Alfred, is another drink,” Edward says sharply.  
Alfred looks up at him. Edward’s jaw is clenched tightly, no trace of amusement on his face. Apparently, he’s in trouble.  
“What?” he asks defensively, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach. He hates it when Edward is angry at him.  
“Is there any particular reason you spelt out the words ‘guitar, ‘Anna’ and ‘Dixon’ for Will earlier?” Edward asks, in a tone of forced calm.  
Alfred flushes, looking down at his lap.  
“That was nothing important, Edward,” he mumbles. “It’s just a silly little inside joke that Will and I have, don’t worry about it.”  
“I see,” says Edward coolly, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “So, spreading rumours that James Grey is secretly involved with his friend’s girlfriend is just a ‘silly little inside joke’, is it?”  
Alfred says nothing, staring down at his lap.  
Edward sighs.  
“Alfred, do you even understand what’s going on with Will Peel?”  
“What?” Alfred asks, bemused, looking up at him again. “What’s that supposed to mean, Edward?”  
“Well, it seems to me like you’re laughing with him and having all these ‘inside jokes,’ when actually he’s been keeping secrets from you the whole time.”  
“Keeping secrets?” Alfred echoes. “Will, keeping secrets from me? Like what?”  
“Like the fact that he’s involved with James Grey?” Edward answers.  
Alfred stares at him. “What?” he asks, laughing a little in shock.  
“Alfred, did you not see the way they were looking at each other tonight? Did you not hear the way they were talking to each other? Like they’re both in on something nobody else knows about? Did you not notice the way James got upset and stormed out, thinking that Will had been talking to you about him behind his back? Did you not notice how Will went quiet, for the first time in his life probably, and left a few minutes after James? I’m pretty sure there’s something going on there, Alf. You might think you’re in on whatever secret Will Peel has, but it looks to me like he’s been playing you for a fool.”  
Alfred stares at him, shaking his head. Where is Edward getting this peculiar idea all of a sudden?  
“Edward, has anybody actually told you that Will and James are together?” he asks. “Is this something you know for a fact?”  
“Well...no, of course not,” Edward replies. “This is just my theory. Based on observations. And logic.”  
“Right,” Alfred says, grinning a little at the stubborn expression on Edward’s face. “Well, your theory is wrong, Edward - you should leave the matchmaking to me. Will and James are definitely not together.”  
“How can you possibly know that for sure, Alfred?” Edward demands.  
“Well, I guess I can’t speak for James,” he admits, with a little shrug. “I don’t think he has feelings for Will - though it’s possible, I suppose, Will is pretty gorgeous. But I can absolutely speak for Will - and it isn’t James that he’s interested in. Trust me.”  
He smirks slightly, thinking of Will and Florence, driving to Florence’s place together right now. Perhaps Florence will even invite him in for a drink....  
Edward stares at him. He doesn’t look angry anymore, though. He looks...hurt. More hurt than Alfred has ever seen him. His shoulders slump forward, as though all of his energy has suddenly drained away.  
Before Alfred can reach out to him or ask him what’s wrong, though, Edward turns away from him, as though he doesn’t want Alfred to see his expression.  
“Right. Guess I must have been wrong, then,” he says tonelessly. “Well, if you don’t mind cleaning up the rest of the stuff, I think I might head to bed. I’m pretty tired.”  
“Edward, wait -”  
“Goodnight, Alfred.”  
And with that, Edward takes himself off towards his room. Alfred hears his bedroom door quietly closing a moment later.

Alfred swears under his breath, standing there alone in the silent living room.  
What the hell happened tonight?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An awkward and uncomfortable dinner party at Box Hill Restaurant leads Alfred to make some very bad decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anybody who knows the source material for this fic, 'Emma' by Jane Austen, this is my take on the infamous 'Box Hill' chapter.   
> Just thought I should warn you....

“Edward, are you _sure_ you’re okay?”

“I told you, Alfred, I’m fine,” Edward says shortly, without taking his eyes off the road.

His tone makes it abundantly clear that he’s  _ not  _ fine - besides, the fact that he’s still saying ‘Alfred’ rather than ‘Alf’ as usual is a telling sign - but Alfred supposes there’s no point pressing the issue. After a moment of silence, he tries changing the subject, hoping it might improve Edward’s mood a bit.

“God, I hope tonight isn’t going to be too weird,” he says. 

“Why should it be weird?” Edward asks, still sounding irritated. 

Alfred shrugs slightly. 

“Well, you know. Everyone together - us, Will, James, Mina, not to mention bloody Pippa and Alex, as if we haven’t had enough of  _ them  _ to last a lifetime. I’m just not sure how it’s going to pan out, that’s all.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry too much,” Edward replies, still not looking back at him. “If you stay with Will Peel the whole evening, I’m sure you’ll be fine. You probably won’t even notice anybody else.” 

Alfred stares at him. 

“ _ What?  _ What’s that supposed to mean?”

Edward doesn’t answer. 

Alfred’s sitting in the back seat of the car, so he can’t really see Edward’s expression properly - particularly as he’s so determinedly keeping his eyes on the road in front of him - but he can see the muscle in his jaw tightening. 

Alfred opens his mouth to demand that Edward explain what he’s going on about, but Florence forestalls him, turning around to speak to him from the front passenger seat. 

“Alfred, I think Edward just wants to concentrate on finding a good parking spot right now. Maybe you guys can put this conversation on hold for a bit?”

“Thanks, Flo,” Edward murmurs, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to give her a small smile. She immediately smiles back at him, blushing a little. 

Alfred sits back in his seat, seething silently to himself. 

He doesn’t like sitting in the back seat while Edward is driving, so that he can’t even see his face properly when he’s trying to talk to him. But after Florence had arrived at their apartment for the lift she’d been offered, she’d leapt into the front passenger seat next to Edward before Alfred had even reached the car - and he could hardly tell her to move, at least not without looking like a petty child. 

He’s not too keen on this other new habit she seems to have picked up, either - a habit of randomly inserting herself into his conversations with Edward. He loves having Florence as a friend, but he’s also been best friends with Edward a lot longer than he’s known her, and he doesn’t particularly appreciate her suddenly acting and speaking as though she’s the moderator between them, as though she knows Edward and his moods better than  _ he  _ does. It’s just...irritating. 

This new habit of Florence’s would be bad enough at the best of times, but it’s  _ really  _ not helpful now, given that Edward has seemed annoyed and upset ever since the evening with Will and James two weeks ago, and Alfred still can’t get him to explain  _ why.  _ Yes, he knows Edward was annoyed at him for using his letter tiles to spread gossip about James Grey - but if that was all, he wouldn’t still be  _ this _ irritable, would he? There’s  _ got  _ to be more to it than that, surely? 

As if Edward’s bad mood and Florence’s completely unnecessary interventions aren’t enough, Edward’s currently trying to find a parking spot near the fancy and expensive Box Hill Restaurant in the heart of Highbury, where the three of them have been invited to dinner to celebrate Robert and Emma Peel’s six-month wedding anniversary. 

Alfred wishes he could just be happily looking forward to spending an evening with his friends, subtly nudging Will and Florence towards each other. But he knows for a fact that the other guests will include Mina, who is even more awkward than usual when she’s around him and Florence, Alex and Pippa, whose loathing for him is only outstripped by his for her, and James, who he hasn’t seen since he rushed out of their apartment after catching Alfred spreading gossip about him. Bloody Robert and Emma, being friendly with literally  _ everyone.  _

Suffice it to say, it’s sure to be an interesting night, to say the least. 

“Okay, you two can just go in while I find a space,” Edward announces with a small sigh, bringing the car to a stop. 

“Okay,” Alfred says obediently, trying to stay on his good side as much as possible. “Come on, Flo,” he mutters, opening his door. 

“Oh, but…” she says, with a plaintive look at Edward.

“I don’t think Edward needs help parking, Flo,” he tells her, a little more sharply than he’d intended. 

“I’ll be fine, Flo,” Edward says more gently, smiling at her. “Really, you can head in with Alfred. I’ll join you guys in a minute.”

“Alright,” she replies, visibly relaxing a little as she smiles back at him. 

Alfred hopes his annoyance isn’t showing too clearly on his face as the two of them walk into Box Hill Restaurant together. He’s really not sure what’s gotten into Florence recently. Since when is it  _ Edward  _ that she turns to for support and guidance?

“Alfred, Florence!” Robert Peel booms jovially, shaking Alfred’s hand firmly. Alfred winces slightly as he plasters on a smile; he’s not sure he’s really in the mood to deal with Robert’s oblivious good humour. 

“But where’s Edward?” Robert asks quickly. 

Alfred struggles to refrain from rolling his eyes; Robert could hardly make it any more obvious that Edward is his unashamed favourite. Not that Alfred didn’t already know that. 

“Don’t worry, Edward won’t be a minute, he’s just outside parking,” he tells him reassuringly.

“Ah, good, good man,” Robert responds pompously. 

“He  _ is _ ,” Florence pipes up enthusiastically. 

Alfred looks at her, frowning slightly, and she blushes a little. Before he can respond, Emma walks over, arm in arm with Will, who’s looking rather despondent. He shoots Alfred a significant look behind his father’s back, and Alfred grins a little. At least there’s  _ somebody  _ here tonight that isn’t going to annoy him.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Emma says, smiling at Florence as she gives her a welcoming hug. “And hello to you too, Alfred,” she adds, giving him a hug in turn. “Been keeping out of trouble?” 

“Oh, well, you know...I try,” Alfred replies, smirking a little as he watches Will bend down to kiss Florence on the cheek. “Which is more than can be said for your stepson here, I imagine.”

“Hey!” Will says indignantly.

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” Alfred asks, grinning. 

“Well, it might be true, but you don’t have to say it!”

“I hope you  _ are  _ going to behave yourself tonight, William,” Robert interjects sharply.

Will’s mischievous grin immediately vanishes, his face falling back into an expression of irritated gloom. 

“Don’t worry, Dad, I’ll be a good boy,” he says wearily. “Not like I have much choice,” he adds under his breath, casting a momentary look at James, who’s standing on the other side of the room with Mina.

“Oh, leave him alone, Robert,” Emma intervenes, placing a reassuring hand on Will’s arm. “Remember how disappointed you were when Will couldn’t make it to the wedding?” Will fidgets a little, avoiding his stepmother’s eye. “It’s lovely that he’s here to celebrate our six-month anniversary with us tonight, he doesn’t need you hassling him.”

Will looks awkwardly gratified, as Robert makes a disgruntled  _ hmph  _ noise. 

“Anyway, congratulations, you two,” Alfred pipes up hastily, eager to change the subject. “Here’s our present.” 

He proffers the bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne that he and Edward had picked out together, wrapped carefully with a red ribbon. 

“And here’s mine,” Florence adds, holding out the box of truffle chocolates she had spent ages delicately wrapping.

“Thank you, lovelies,” Emma says, smiling as she takes the gifts. “You’re both too kind.” 

“Edward should be here in a moment, Emma; I think we might go sit down while we wait for him,” Alfred says. 

“So he decided not to come along with James this evening, then?” Emma asks, with an oddly mischievous glint in her eyes, as though she’s teasing him. 

“No, evidently not,” Alfred responds, grinning back at her, still smug - and a little relieved, if he’s honest - to have been proved right on that. 

“What? James?” Will asks, with a laugh that sounds more tense than genuinely amused. “Why would Drummond be coming here with James, Emma?” 

“Oh, it’s just a little theory that Emma had,” Alfred replies airily, smirking at her a little. Emma rolls her eyes. 

“Anyway, shall we go and find some seats, Will?” he asks.

“Yeah, of course,” Will answers hastily, still looking uncharacteristically wrong-footed. 

As they walk with Florence over towards the large table that Robert and Emma have reserved, Alfred groans quietly as he sees Pippa Elton making her way purposefully towards them, tugging Alex along with her. The unconvincing ‘friendly’ smile on her face is a  _ very  _ thin veneer over her obvious rage and irritation at the sight of him. Evidently she still hasn’t forgiven him or Edward for managing to overrule her and get Florence into her engagement party, and she’s now hellbent on trying to humiliate both him and Florence to get her own back. 

“Fucking  _ brilliant _ ,” Alfred mutters under his breath. 

“I’m just going to go over and say hi to Mina, Alfred,” Florence says quietly, sounding nervous.

“Good plan,” Alfred murmurs back. Florence quickly sidles away in Mina’s direction before Pippa and Alex reach them. 

“Pippa,” he greets her, smiling through his teeth even as he squares his shoulders, ready for battle. 

“Alfred,” she responds brightly. “Fancy bumping into you here! And I assume dear Edward is hovering around somewhere nearby? Small world, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, well, Robert and Emma are good friends of ours, Pippa,” he answers. “In fact, I was the one who introduced them to each other. It was very lovely of them to invite everyone to celebrate their anniversary with them - but then, they’re not the kind of people to let any invitations  _ slip their minds _ .” 

Alex shifts a little uncomfortably at Pippa’s side, but Pippa just smiles blandly back at Alfred, evidently completely unabashed. Alfred feels his fury rise.

“Actually, I’m quite surprised to see the two of you here this evening,” Will pipes up suddenly. 

Alfred looks at him in surprise, as does Pippa. 

“Oh, why?” she asks sweetly. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, really - I just happen to know that my stepmother can’t stand you,” Will says conversationally. “She knows you’ve been using party invitations as petty manipulation tools, not to mention getting your kicks out of spreading gossip and rumours about people, and flashing that shiny rock on your finger around as if it’s some prize you’ve won in a popularity contest or some shit. Bit pathetic, really - more like a teenager in high school than a fully grown woman. In fact, it’s not just my stepmother who knows about all that, I expect it’s pretty much everyone here - well, my dear father excepted, possibly, but then he’s always been a bit oblivious. Still, it was jolly nice of my lovely stepmother to invite you both despite all that. I suppose you’re lucky it’s Emma hosting this thing, aren’t you? She never wants to cause any tension or bad feelings, so she decided to invite you this evening, even though she and everyone else here knows what a manipulative cow you are. Lucky  _ I  _ wasn’t left in charge of the invitations tonight - we can’t all take the moral high ground as admirably as my stepmother. But never mind, we’re all friends now, aren’t we?” Will finishes, clapping Alex casually on the shoulder. “Have a great night, you two.” He turns to Alfred calmly. “You coming, Alfred?” 

Alfred stands there for a moment, trying not to laugh gleefully as Pippa’s smirk completely fades away, replaced with a look of impotent fury and embarrassment. As Alex squirms silently at her side, she glances at the other guests around the room, as though she’s only just realising the truth of Will’s words - everyone else  _ is _ giving her a wide berth. 

“Enjoy your evening, guys,” Alfred says brightly to Pippa and Alex, not bothering to hide the glee in his voice, before hurrying after Will as he strides away from them.

“Where did  _ that  _ come from?” Alfred asks him in awe. “I mean, I’m certainly not complaining…”

Will shrugs.

“Can’t stand that cow. Don’t have time for any of her passive aggressive bullshit. Just calling it like I see it.”

“Fair enough,” Alfred answers, still thoroughly impressed. “Though I’m not sure if you calling her out like that is going to help the evening go any more smoothly.” 

Will shrugs again, picking up a bottle of wine from a side table and pouring himself a generous glass. 

“Whatever. Pretty sure this evening was going to be awkward as fuck anyway.” 

“What makes you say that?” Alfred asks curiously, lifting a glass up so that Will can pour him some wine too. 

“Just a feeling,” Will answers evasively. 

As they sit down next to each other at the reserved table, Will goes silent for a moment, gazing almost wistfully over to the corner where James, Mina and Florence are talking together. Alfred notices James glancing over at the two of them briefly, evidently sensing Will’s gaze. Immediately, his expression hardens, and he turns back to join in Mina and Florence’s conversation again, as though determined not to acknowledge either of them. 

Will quickly looks down at his lap, his expression uncharacteristically tense, before grabbing the nearest bottle of wine and pouring himself another glass. Alfred feels a slight twist of shame and embarrassment in his own stomach - apparently James still isn’t best pleased with either of them after the Bananagrams incident at Alfred and Edward’s apartment. Alfred supposes he can’t really blame him. 

He quickly drains his own glass and passes it wordlessly over to Will. He’s gratified that Will immediately refills it for him, no questions asked. 

“Cheers,” Alfred mutters, raising his glass in a sarcastic toast. Will lets out a hollow laugh, and they drink together. Alfred notices Will’s eyes darting back to where James is standing with Mina and Florence. 

“You know,” Alfred says, setting down his glass, determined to try and make the evening a bit more cheerful, “I think Flo might rather enjoy sitting next to you tonight.” 

“Oh, really?” Will asks, raising an eyebrow and grinning slightly. He looks over at Florence again. “Florence!” he calls. 

She turns around curiously. 

“Yes, Will?”

“Want to come sit here and entertain me, gorgeous?” he asks, flashing her a dazzling grin as he pats the empty seat on his other side. 

“Um....sure,” she answers, offering Will a small smile in return, even as she looks taken aback. 

She walks over to the table with Mina and James trailing in her wake, James still determinedly avoiding Will’s eyes. Sitting down next to Will, Florence immediately puts her bag down on the chair on her other side. Mina hesitates.

“Oh,” she says awkwardly. “Sorry, I thought that…silly me, I just...” 

She trails off, before tentatively sitting down in the next empty chair along, blushing. James quietly sits down on Mina’s other side. 

“Saving a spot for somebody, lovely?” Will asks Florence casually. 

At that moment, as if in answer to his question, Edward walks over to the table, unzipping his coat, his dark hair slightly damp and looking even curlier than usual. Apparently it’s started to rain outside. 

“There you are, I was wondering where you’d got to!” Florence exclaims enthusiastically, beaming up at him as she moves her bag, leaving the chair on her other side free. 

Edward glances briefly over at Alfred sitting next to Will as he drinks from a fresh glass of wine. Alfred watches as Edward’s face tightens, a muscle twitching in his jaw. 

“Took me ages to find a good parking space,” he says to Florence, pointedly looking away from Alfred and Will as he sits down next to her. 

“Do you want a drink?” Florence asks.

“Sure - thanks, Flo,” Edward answers, giving her a small smile. She beams back at him as she fills up a glass for him. 

“How are you doing, James?” Edward asks, turning towards him slightly as he accepts the glass of wine that Florence is handing to him. 

“I’m doing alright, thanks, Edward,” James responds, with a forced smile. 

Judging from the way Edward glances momentarily over at Will and Alfred again, Alfred guesses that he’s perfectly aware James is being economical with the truth, to say the least. But he simply smiles back at James, evidently deciding not to press him. 

“And how about you, Mina?” he asks, turning to smile at her too. “I haven’t seen you in a little while. What have you been up to? Has your aunt been feeling a bit better recently?” 

“She’s not quite so poorly anymore, but she’s still just as demanding as ever, and just as opinionated,” Mina sighs. “She’s exhausting, and some of her views are a little bit backwards, as you probably know. Between her and uni, I’ve barely had any free time - I’ve been missing people a bit, you know.” 

She glances over at Florence quickly, blushing, before she looks back at Edward. “At least I managed to get a bit of birdwatching done the other day, though!”

“That sounds lovely,” Edward says politely. 

“Oh, it was, it really was!” Mina replies enthusiastically, her face brightening. “I drew some pictures to show my aunt, and I think it definitely cheered her up a bit! I’ve actually got the sketchbook somewhere here with me, if I can just find it…”

She bends down, rummaging through her bag and extracting her sketchbook with a grin. Alfred has a vivid flashback to her doing the exact same thing on the very first day he’d met her, at the cafe. He struggles to refrain from rolling his eyes. 

“Mina, maybe now isn’t the best…” James murmurs to her quietly. 

“No, no, I’m happy to look!” Edward says hastily, smiling at Mina, who beams gratefully back at him. She opens her sketchbook, immediately launching into full flow about her stupid birds. 

“See, this one here is a blue tit - he was ever so sweet, and sat still for  _ ages  _ so I could draw him properly! And this wee little robin redbreast was so friendly - probably too friendly for his own good, actually! And I drew a gorgeous little wren here - I haven’t really done him justice, but see how pretty the colours in his tail are?”

“Mm,” Edward answers, looking like he’s struggling to maintain his expression of polite interest. 

“You’ve forgotten to tell us what time of day it was and how many minutes there were between birds, Mina,” Will interjects, picking up another glass of wine and draining it. “But please, do go on. I can’t remember ever being so fascinated in my life.” 

Alfred sniggers before he can stop himself and hastily tries to pass it off as a cough. James and Edward both glare at Will simultaneously. Mina flushes slightly, closing her sketchbook and quietly putting it away in her bag. 

“Thank fuck for that,” Will whispers to Alfred. 

An awkward silence falls between them for a few moments, before their attention is drawn by Robert standing up at the head of the table, tapping lightly on his glass with a spoon and clearing his throat pompously. 

“I’d just like to say a big thank you to all of you for joining us here tonight,” he begins. “I’m not usually one for speeches” -  _ “Ha!”  _ Will mutters under his breath, pouring himself yet another glass of wine - “but given that tonight I’m celebrating six months of marriage with the wonderful woman sitting next to me, I thought I’d better say a few words about her, at least.”

An awkward, unenthusiastic murmur of half-laughter runs around the table. 

“I was just a bumbling middle-aged divorced man, lonely and single as can be,” Robert continues, clearly unfazed by the lukewarm reaction, “and I was starting to think that I might stay that way. But then a gorgeous woman called Emma Portman walked into my life and...well, the rest, as they say, is history. Emma,” he says, turning to her, “you are not only beautiful, but witty, kind, thoughtful, and certainly wiser than I could ever hope to be, even if I lived to be one hundred.” 

“Amen to that,” Will mutters, not making much of an effort to lower his voice. Luckily, Robert continues as though he hadn't heard his son’s snarking. 

“I love you very much, Emma,” Robert says, beaming at her, “and even now, six months after our wedding day, there are times when I have to pinch myself, because I can’t believe how lucky I am that you’ve chosen to spend your life with a crusty old stick-in-the-mud like me.” He holds his hand out to her and Emma takes it, rolling her eyes a little even as she smiles up at him fondly. Still holding her hand, Robert turns back to the others sitting around the table.

“Once again, I’d like to say a warm welcome and a huge thank you to everybody who’s joined us here tonight - and perhaps especially to Alfred Paget, without whom I would never have met the love of my life in the first place.” 

Alfred grins a little and turns towards Edward, ready to whisper ‘ _ told you so,’ _ but the words quickly die on his lips as he catches sight of Edward’s expression. Apparently, he’s in no mood for teasing or banter right now. Alfred looks away quickly, feeling a curious mixture of shame and annoyance. 

Will, apparently catching on to Alfred’s mood, picks up the nearest wine bottle and refills his glass for him without Alfred having to ask, before refilling his own glass. His timing is impeccable, as Robert speaks again as soon as their glasses are full.

“I’d like to invite you all to join me in a toast,” he says, beaming. “To my wonderful wife, Emma. I can’t believe it’s been six months already - here’s to the next six months, and the next six after that, and the next six after  _ that,  _ and so on and so on for the rest of our lives.”

“Poor woman,” Will remarks to Alfred, not particularly quietly. Alfred elbows him in the side, making him slop a bit of his wine on the tablecloth. He’s pretty sure Robert heard him that time, judging by the way the lines around his mouth tighten momentarily, but he presses on, evidently choosing to ignore his son. 

“Anyway, I have nothing more to say, except...to Emma!”

“To Emma,” the other guests echo before drinking. 

“Have a marvellous evening, everyone!” Robert adds pompously. 

Will drains his glass in one. Alfred notices that Pippa seems to be practically radiating fury and resentment as she drinks. 

“How are you, Pippa?” Emma asks politely, with a forced smile.

“Fucking  _ peachy _ , thank you, Emma,” Pippa responds, her voice dripping with bitter sarcasm as she knocks her wine back. 

“...That’s good,” Emma responds awkwardly, after a moment of shock. 

Alfred bites back a smirk. Clearly, Will’s little word with her earlier had got to Pippa just a tad. 

Now he thinks about it, though, the awkward silence settling around the table now that Robert has finished his speech indicates that Pippa is far from the only one in a bad mood. 

Pippa is sitting with her arms folded, glaring around at everyone - when Alex touches her arm gently as though trying to comfort her, she jerks it irritably out of his grip. Meanwhile, Edward and James are both frowning silently, James looking down at his lap, apparently determined not to look across at Will or Alfred. Mina is still looking a little flushed and awkward after Will’s pointed comment about her birds, looking down at the table and avoiding eye contact with anyone. Florence is looking back and forth between Mina’s uncomfortable, nervous expression and Edward’s angry one, looking a little lost as to how to cheer them up. 

She looks beseechingly over at Alfred, as though asking him for help. Alfred gestures with his head in Will’s direction, trying to communicate to Florence that now would be a perfect time for her to break the tension a little by flirting with him. But Florence just tilts her head slightly, looking at him in bewilderment as though she has absolutely no clue what he’s trying to say. 

Alfred sighs slightly, pinching the bridge of his nose. He really doesn’t know how else to communicate his message to her right now. Maybe he’s drunk a bit too much wine. He’s starting to find it difficult to think clearly.

“God, everyone is being so  _ dull  _ right now,” Will complains to Alfred in an undertone, darting another glance in James’s direction. 

“They  _ are _ ,” Alfred agrees, grimacing. 

“Time to liven this party up a bit, you reckon?” Will suggests.

“Wait - how? What do you mean? Will?” 

Before Alfred can stop him, Will drains yet another glass of wine and stands up, swaying slightly on his feet. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announces loudly, clapping his hands together. “May I have your attention, please? I have just been informed by the gorgeous Alfred Paget here that he would like to know _ exactly _ what you are all thinking about right now.” 

“Will, shut up,” Alfred protests, laughing. 

“Are you  _ sure  _ you want to know what we’re all thinking right now, Alfred?” Edward asks pointedly, giving Alfred a look that shows he is thoroughly unamused.

Alfred feels a twinge of unease at Edward’s expression. 

“No, I don’t - don’t worry, Will is just being an idiot,” he replies, trying to laugh it off. 

Will gives a theatrical sigh.

“Fine, if you’re going to insist on being like that,” he huffs. 

James is frowning at him too, but Will seems determined not to meet his gaze. 

“But Alfred and I still insist on everyone entertaining us,” Will continues. “We’d be happy to settle for everyone saying either one thing very amusing, two things  _ quite  _ amusing, or three things that are very boring indeed - and Alfred here promises to laugh at them all regardless, don’t you, Alfred?” 

“Sure,” Alfred agrees with a shrug, already tipsily laughing at Will’s ridiculousness. 

“I don’t see why I should have to say something funny on command,” Alex complains irritably. “Who the hell are you two to judge how funny I am, anyway?” 

“Quite right, darling,” Pippa pipes up, placing a possessive hand on her fiance’s arm as she glares at Alfred. “Just ignore them, babe,” she adds in a loud stage whisper, leaning in towards Alex. “It’s just Alfred attention seeking as usual.” 

Alfred rolls his eyes.

“I’m not desperate enough to want attention from  _ you _ , Pippa.”

“Mina?” Will asks, grinning and making an exaggerated bowing motion in her direction. “Fancy starting us off?”

“What - me?” Mina asks, looking rather alarmed. “Oh, goodness, well, um, it certainly sounds like a fun challenge, but I’m not sure I really want to be the one to start!” She laughs uncomfortably. “I mean, I don’t want to end up saying something that’s a bit awkward or silly and make myself look like an idiot!”

“Well, that’s one funny thing you’ve said already,” Alfred responds without taking a moment to think, smirking in Will’s direction as he takes another sip of wine. “I mean, fear of making yourself look like an idiot never seems to have stopped you before, does it, Mina?” 

Will lets out a small, surprised snigger and Alfred giggles a little at his own words - but he stops abruptly, realising that absolutely nobody else is laughing with them. In fact, the rest of the table seems to have suddenly gone completely silent. 

“Oh,” Mina says in a small voice, breaking the silence. She’s gone bright red. “Right. Yes. That’s a good point, Alfred. Maybe somebody else should speak, then.” 

She forces a laugh and looks down at her lap, blinking rapidly. She looks as though she would quite like to vanish on the spot right now. 

Alfred glances quickly around the table as silence falls again. Pippa is looking almost impressed...that can’t be good. But nobody else looks remotely impressed. James Grey is glaring at him. Florence is darting nervous looks between him and Mina, looking like she’s tempted to jump up and give Mina a hug. 

And Edward...Edward is looking at him with an expression that could best be described as ‘stunned horror’. 

Alfred feels his stomach sink, a wave of hot, sickening shame crashing over him.

Shit. He’s fucked up. He’s  _ really  _ fucked up. 

He tries to think of something he can say to resolve the situation, to lessen the painful tension stretching across the table, but he’s coming up blank. His heart is pounding, his skin feels clammy, he can’t seem to think clearly about anything except his own panic and guilt. 

“Yes, well, I think maybe that’s enough of that game,” Emma says firmly, casting Alfred a stern look that reminds him very much of his mother. “Florence, sweetie, how is your university course going?” 

Awkwardly, Florence begins to speak, and the others around the table all turn towards her and Emma, pretending to be listening intently to the conversation. Robert gives a loud, false laugh at something Emma says, and other people around the table laugh awkwardly along with him, as though nothing is wrong, as though this is just a perfectly normal dinner with everybody getting along, as though the room isn’t still filled with this unbearable sense of tension.

His heart still pounding in his chest, Alfred risks a glance over at Mina.

“Does Alfred really think that about me?” she whispers tentatively to Florence and Edward.

“Of course he doesn’t!” Florence whispers back immediately.

“I hadn’t realised I was annoying people  _ that  _ much,” Mina whispers, and to Alfred’s horror he sees that there are tears in her eyes. “I’m really sorry…”

“Don’t be silly, Mina,” Edward murmurs quietly. “You’re not annoying people, and you have nothing to apologise for. It’s Alfred who should be sorry, not you. Just ignore him. He’s not thinking clearly at the moment.” 

Alfred hastily looks back down at his lap before they can catch him eavesdropping, feeling his cheeks burning with shame. He’s never heard Edward say his name like that before, with so much anger and disappointment in his voice…

As the others around him continue to try and force lively conversation, Alfred scarcely registers a word. He notices that James and Mina excuse themselves early with brief apologies and thanks to Emma and Robert, James with his arm protectively around his cousin, Mina taking deep breaths and wiping frantically at her eyes. 

He can feel guilt squirming in his stomach as they leave, but he can’t think of anything to say. Will has gone quiet, watching James as he leaves, an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. 

Alfred can feel Edward’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t dare meet his best friend’s gaze. Part of him wants to just go home with Edward right now, to leave this all behind and pretend that the whole evening never happened. But another part of him would give  _ anything  _ to put off the moment when he has to explain himself to Edward, to face his disappointment. 

_ Finally _ , the ‘party’ seems to be winding down for the night. Edward stands up abruptly and Alfred and Florence both follow suit, Alfred keeping his head down so that he doesn’t have to meet Edward’s eyes. 

“Thanks for inviting us, you two,” Edward says with an attempt at a smile, shaking Robert’s hand and leaning in to give Emma a peck on the cheek. “And congratulations again.” 

“It was lovely to see you, my boy,” Robert says awkwardly. Emma hugs Florence goodbye.

“Take care, Edward,” she says quietly, with a concerned look in Alfred’s direction.

Edward nods silently, his jaw tightening. 

“See you soon,” Alfred mutters to Will. “Thanks for entertaining me tonight.” 

Will nods with an attempt at a smile, looking pale and uneasy.

“See you around, Alfred.” 

Edward turns to Alfred as he pulls his coat on, raising one eyebrow wordlessly. Alfred nods shakily without meeting his eyes, keeping his head down as he follows Edward and Florence out to the car. 

This time, Alfred quickly gets into the front passenger seat next to Edward before Florence can sit there, following an instinctive urge to be close to him, hoping he might soften after a few minutes. Florence hesitates for a moment before quietly sitting in the back seat behind him. 

But Edward doesn’t seem to be softening at all. Alfred darts glances at him out of the corner of his eye, but Edward seems determined not to look at him; his shoulders are tense, his hands clenched on the steering wheel, a muscle in his jaw twitching. 

Florence seems unwilling to say anything - or perhaps, like Alfred, she just can’t think of anything to say. When Edward comes to a stop outside her building, she quickly gathers up her things and murmurs a hasty “Thanks, Edward. Goodnight, guys,” before closing the door and hurrying inside to her apartment. 

Even after Florence is gone, when it’s just the two of them, the car remains completely silent. Alfred still can’t really think of anything to say - he just wishes that, whatever Edward is thinking, he would just say it out loud and get it over with. This silent waiting is worse than anything - he can’t remember  _ ever  _ feeling this uncomfortable and tense around his best friend. 

The billowing, deafening silence between them continues as they walk up the stairs to their apartment, continues as Edward unlocks their front door and ushers Alfred in ahead of him, slamming the door behind them as he follows him, making Alfred jump slightly.

Edward tosses his keys down into the fruit bowl on the coffee table. He turns to face Alfred, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow, as though he’s waiting for something.

“Edward,  _ please _ ,” Alfred begs, finally breaking the silence between them that’s been slowly driving him insane. “For god’s sake, say  _ something _ !” 

Edward glares at him.

“What the hell was _ that _ , Alfred?” he asks quietly. “In what world is it acceptable to say something like that to Mina? To humiliate her publicly like that?” 

“What?  _ Humiliate  _ her? I wasn’t...I didn’t…” 

Alfred stumbles over his words, wishing he could think straight, wishing the burning sense of shame in his chest would go away, wishing that Edward would stop  _ looking  _ at him like that. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Edward, it was only meant as a joke!” he protests weakly. “I mean, come on...she walked right into it…”

Edward raises his eyebrows, his face hardening with every word Alfred speaks.

“A joke?” he echoes disbelievingly. “As far as I’m aware, Alfred, jokes are supposed to be funny. And I really don’t think  _ anyone _ found your little comment funny, except for you and Will Peel. I’m pretty sure most people were horrified at the casual way you insulted and belittled Mina, actually. You don’t like it when Pippa Elton does that to people. So why should it be okay for  _ you  _ to do it?” 

“What?  _ Horrified _ ?” Alfred asks, laughing nervously, even though nothing about this conversation is remotely amusing. “You’re being dramatic, Edward, nobody was  _ horrified _ ! Okay, I made things  _ awkward _ , maybe…”

“You don’t seem to get it, Alfred,” Edward snaps, and Alfred falls silent, staring at him in shock. “You just hurt Mina’s feelings, publicly, for the sole purpose of entertaining yourself and Will! I mean, don’t you think maybe you’ve already done enough damage where Mina is concerned? Don’t you think you hurt her enough, when you interfered and told Florence to reject her all those months ago?” 

“What?” Alfred asks, his heart pounding uncomfortably against his ribcage, his throat hoarse as he struggles to speak clearly without crying, another wave of hot shame crashing over him. “I wasn’t trying to...I didn’t mean to hurt her, Edward!”

“Well, you did,” Edward replies bluntly. “You just weren’t thinking about anybody else tonight, were you? Sitting there, sniggering away with Will Peel…”

He trails off, breathing hard, his mouth twisting, his face clouding for a moment with something that looks more like hurt than anger. He takes a deep breath before beginning again.

“Whatever you do with Will is your own business,” he says quietly. “But I’ve known you for a long time, Alfred, and I  _ know  _ you’re better than this. At that restaurant tonight, I looked across the table at my best friend, and for a moment...it was like I didn’t even recognise him.” 

Alfred’s breath hitches painfully in his throat at these words. Something seems to tear, deep in his chest. 

He swallows, fighting back tears, trying his best to speak calmly.

“Edward, I  _ know  _ there’s no excuse for what I said to Mina,” he says quietly. “I could tell you that I’d had too much to drink, that I wasn’t in a good mood, that I wasn’t thinking clearly - but the bottom line is that it was stupid and pointlessly nasty, and I  _ know  _ I shouldn’t have said it.” He pauses, struggling to collect himself. “But I’m sure Mina will forget about it before too long,” he says beseechingly. “There’s no point dwelling on it, right? I mean, there’s nothing I can do to change it now. It’s over. It’s done.” 

“Yeah -  _ badly  _ done, Alfred,” Edward answers sharply.

Alfred stares at him, feeling shock and shame overwhelm him. He can feel tears welling in his eyes; he hastily reaches up to wipe them away. 

The fight seems to have drained out of them both now. For a moment, they just stand there staring at each other, both exhausted, both hurting, the silence billowing around them. 

Without warning, Edward suddenly turns around and walks quietly away, towards his bedroom. Alfred hears his door closing quietly a moment later. He supposes Edward is going to bed, then. Perhaps that’s for the best - perhaps they should both go to bed and cool off. Everything will seem better in the morning once they’ve rested, right?

Alfred stands stock still in the middle of the living room, struggling to breathe evenly, to calm himself down.

To his surprise, he hears Edward’s door open again only a few minutes later. Edward walks quietly back into the living room; Alfred’s heart seems to sink through the floor when he registers that Edward is carrying a backpack and wheeling a suitcase. 

Edward stops at the sight of him, looking awkward; apparently, he hadn’t expected Alfred to still be standing there. 

“Where are you going?” Alfred asks, his throat hoarse with unshed tears. “It’s late, Edward.” 

“I know it is,” Edward replies. He hesitates, and lets out a shaky sigh, looking utterly exhausted by their fight. “I’m going to London,” he says. “I think I’m going to stay with Charlotte and Cecilia for a bit.” He looks at him, hurt, anger, exhaustion and something less easy to read written across his face. “I...I need some space, Alfred.” 

Nothing has ever hurt as much as this does, right now. Nothing. 

Alfred nods shakily, trying to muster an understanding smile, trying to pretend that everything is okay when  _ none  _ of this is okay. 

“Right,” he responds quietly. “How long, um...how long will you be gone?” 

God, it’s pathetic how small he sounds. But the truth is, he doesn’t really know how to be without Edward.

Edward shrugs slightly. Alfred notices that he’s blinking rapidly, as though he’s desperately trying to hold back tears as well. 

“I don’t know, Alfred,” he answers at last. “A while.” 

Alfred nods again, wondering how everything seems to have spiralled so quickly out of his control. He feels like the ground under his feet is fracturing apart. 

Edward looks at him one last time, as though he’s trying to memorise every detail of his face, almost as though he can hardly bear to look away. Then, finally, he takes a deep, shaky breath, and walks swiftly out of the apartment without looking back at Alfred, tugging his suitcase after him. The front door closes gently a moment later. 

For a moment, Alfred just stands there, frozen and numb, staring at the door. 

Slowly, cold hard realisation seeps through him, realisation that Edward really is gone, that he has no idea when, if ever, he’s coming back.

He sinks down onto the sofa, curling up into himself. He doesn’t even have any energy left to wipe away the tears that are falling thick and fast down his cheeks.

He’s alone.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry....this hurt me too, if it's any consolation...


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilt-stricken and lonely, Alfred has been feeling lost ever since Edward left.
> 
> But there are apologies to be made, as well as revelations in store that will leave Alfred reeling and questioning everything he thought he knew...

It’s been a week. One whole week since Edward left, and Alfred still feels like he’s drowning. 

He’d never really noticed before how quiet the apartment feels without Edward in it. How... _empty._

When he gets dressed in the morning now, he can’t hear any humming from the bathroom as Edward brushes his teeth. The living room feels blank and unlived in, the television silent when he comes in, no news program playing while Edward tuts, sighs, or jots down notes to discuss with Robert later, like the dork he is. Now, when Alfred sits on the sofa, trying to bully himself into concentrating on uni readings, there’s no familiar sound of chuckling coming from the kitchen as Edward listens to podcasts while he cooks. On Monday night, Question Time night, part of Alfred had fretted that he needed to put the program on, even though he’s never been much of a fan of it himself, because it’s been their Monday night tradition for years, and, well...he needs _something_ familiar right now. But in the end, he hadn’t turned it on, but had curled up in bed early instead; it would have felt profoundly _wrong_ watching it by himself. 

There isn’t any delicious smell of pancakes wafting from the kitchen to tempt him out of bed in the mornings anymore, either - in fact, in the past week, Alfred’s been struggling to motivate himself to get out of bed at all. Honestly, what’s the point? He’ll probably just manage to screw up some more, or hurt somebody else. 

Because Edward was right, of course. He knows that now, without a shadow of a doubt. What he had said to Mina last week at Box Hill Restaurant had been thoughtless and uncalled for and downright _nasty_ . And for what? Because he’d been bored? Because he’d been irritated that the evening wasn’t going the way he’d envisioned it? Because he’d been trying to get a laugh out of Will Peel? There was absolutely no excuse for thoughtlessly hurting somebody like that - especially somebody like Mina Coke, who, awkward and rambling though she might be sometimes, had done absolutely nothing to provoke it, who never had an unkind word for _anybody._

Every time he thinks about the shocked hurt on Mina’s face, the anger on Edward’s - and he’s thought about both of them a _lot_ over the past week - he feels another hot, nauseating wave of shame, making him want to curl up and hide his face from the world outside, from everybody who saw him behaving like that. 

No _wonder_ Edward was so disappointed in him. 

Alfred has to apologise to Mina. He knows that. But he hasn’t done it yet, because...how? What can he possibly say to make up for what he did to her? How does he move past that? 

He knows now how stupid it was to try and tell Edward that Mina would forget about it sooner or later - hell, he’d realised that even as he said it, he’d just been so desperate to make Edward stop _looking_ at him like that. Mina probably won’t be forgetting about what he said for a _long_ time, if ever - he wouldn’t, if it was him. Plus, he’d already helped to break her heart months ago, as Edward had reminded him, when he’d encouraged Florence to reject her. 

Really, why on earth would Mina ever accept his apology, or even believe him?

So he hasn’t tried to get through to Mina yet. But he’d certainly tried to get through to Edward - in those first few days after he’d left, at least. 

He’d called that first morning, sitting at the coffee table staring at the empty seat opposite, unable to stand the silence. It wasn’t that he _needed_ to hear from Edward or anything, he’d told himself - he just wanted to make sure that he’d got to Charlotte and Cecilia’s place alright, that was all. He’d been driving pretty late at night in an emotional state, after all. But the phone had rung and rung, before eventually going to Edward’s ridiculously polite voicemail. 

_I’m so sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now - please send me a text to let me know I’ve missed you and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you very much for your patience - take care!_

It was fine, he was probably just showering or caught up talking to Charlotte or something, Alfred had tried to persuade himself, trying to ignore the twist of pain in his chest as he hung up. 

So he’d rung again later. And again. And again the next day, and again after that. But each time, it had gone through to voicemail again, and each time the pain in his chest seemed to grow worse, more insistent. Edward _always_ keeps his phone on him, in case Robert needs to tell him something, in case there’s an emergency and somebody needs his help. Which means there’s next to no chance that Edward keeps accidentally missing Alfred’s calls. He must be just letting them go through to voicemail. He’s _choosing_ not to answer him.

Alfred has to admit, the hurt stuns him a little. Of course they’ve had fights before, but he can’t remember Edward ever just...refusing to speak to him. He doesn’t know what to do. He needs to know that Edward is okay - well, as okay as he can be in the circumstances, anyway. He needs to hear his voice - _properly_ , not just on a stupid _voicemail_ message. 

Finally, he’d sent a short, simple text.

_Edward. I’m sorry._

That text had been sent three days ago now. He still hasn’t had any response, although he can see the little tick that tells him Edward has definitely _seen_ it. He’s not sure if that makes him feel better or worse. 

Although he hasn’t heard from the one person he’s desperate to hear from, he’s certainly heard a lot from Florence. She’d called him the very next day after Edward had left, the first day he’d woken up to an empty apartment. 

“Hey, Alfred,” she’d said tentatively. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m okay, thanks, Flo,” he’d replied automatically, though he wasn’t sure who he thought he was fooling. He’d been choking back tears even as he said it.

“Oh...I’m glad,” she’d responded awkwardly. It had been fairly obvious that she didn’t believe him - he couldn’t really blame her - but he was too worn out from crying to try to convince her. She seemed to decide not to press him on it anyway. 

“And, um...how is Edward doing? Is he okay too?” 

Immediately, he’d felt another sharp twist of pain in his chest. He’d taken a deep breath, trying to push away the image of the anger and disappointment on Edward’s face. 

“You’d have to ask him for yourself, Flo,” he’d responded in a small voice. “He’s not here. He left last night.”

Another blow to the chest. Saying it out loud had made it real, undeniable.

“Oh,” Florence had replied, after a pause that seemed to last for an eternity. “Why? Where is he?” 

Alfred had taken another deep breath, trying to keep his breathing even. He couldn’t give in to tears again, not while Florence was on the phone, at least. 

“He’s gone to stay in London for a bit,” he’d answered finally. “He, um...he wanted to spend some time with his sister and her girlfriend. You know, Charlotte and Cecilia?”

“Oh,” Florence had said again. 

Sure, Alfred was only telling her a tiny fraction of the story. And she could probably piece the painful, uncomfortable bits together for herself - after all, she’d been _there_ when he’d said that awful thing to Mina, she’d seen Mina’s reaction as well as Edward’s, and she’d been in the car with them when they were driving home. She’d have to have been pretty stupid and tactless not to have picked up on the tension between them at all - and Florence is neither of those things. But Alfred just can’t bear to rehash it all. And he certainly doesn’t want her sympathy, either. He doesn’t _deserve_ sympathy. 

“Right,” Florence had continued awkwardly, when Alfred didn’t say anything or explain any further. “Um...how long will he be gone?”

“I’m really not sure, Florence,” Alfred had sighed wearily, already growing desperate to get off the call. He really hadn’t had the mental energy to deal with it. 

“Oh...okay,” she’d responded, evidently sensing his gloom through the phone. “Well, don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be seeing him back here soon!”

“Right. Yeah,” Alfred had mumbled. 

He’d remembered Edward’s response the night before, when Alfred had asked him how long he’d be gone. _I don’t know, Alfred. A while._

“Well, anyway, I’m glad to hear you’re doing okay, Alfred!” Florence had said hastily, in a falsely bright voice. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow!”

“Oh, um…”

“What?”

The thought of going into the cafe, acting like everything was normal, made him feel a fresh surge of exhaustion and anxiety. How could he just go into the cafe and make coffees, chat to customers animatedly like he usually does, all the while trying not to look at Edward’s conspicuously empty seat at the counter? He didn’t have the strength to deal with that right now.

“I’m actually feeling pretty under the weather right now, Flo,” he’d said awkwardly. “So I’m not sure if I’ll be coming into the cafe tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Florence had said again. “Oh, I’m sorry, Alfred - I really hope you feel better soon!”

“Thanks.”

“So maybe I’ll see you the day after tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah,” Alfred had sighed wearily. “Maybe. I’ll see how I go.”

“Alfred, you know you can always talk to me, right?” she’d asked quietly. 

Despite himself, he’d smiled a little at those words. She’d been at the restaurant too, she’d seen the way he’d behaved. He doesn’t know what he’s ever done to deserve Florence Kerr as a friend.

“Yeah, I know,” he’d said sincerely. “Thanks, Flo. You’re the best.” 

“Well, I’ll see you soon, okay?” she’d responded quietly. “Feel better soon, Alfred!”

“Yeah - thanks, Flo…”

She’d hung up, leaving Alfred staring at the phone, unsure whether talking to her had made him feel better or worse.

He’d told Victoria on the Monday that he wasn’t going to be coming into the cafe, as he wasn’t feeling up to it. He’d expected a more annoyed reaction from her, to be honest, but she’d been surprisingly understanding, on that first day at least, telling him she hoped he felt better soon. He couldn’t help but wonder if Florence had said something to her, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain. 

But as the week wore on and he kept texting her to let her know that he still wasn’t feeling up to coming into the cafe, he could sense Victoria’s patience getting thinner. He supposes he can’t really blame her. And as for Florence, she’s been calling him every day, asking him how he’s feeling, telling him how quiet the cafe is without him, asking him when he’s going to be back. And he has no answers to give her. He’s not actually sick, but he’s so tired and so ashamed, and he’s hurting, and Edward _won’t answer his calls._ He appreciates Florence’s concern and her checking up on him, really he does. But Alfred can’t help but contrast her frequent, increasingly alarmed messages and calls with the total silence from his best friend. 

He can’t go back to the cafe. Edward Drummond, his best friend in the world, has lost his faith in him. What else matters? 

He sits at the silent coffee table with a mug of tea clutched in his hands for warmth, gazing around. Strange how the apartment can be so empty of Edward and yet so full of him at the same time. Alfred seems to see traces of him everywhere he looks. 

When he was rummaging in the kitchen, he’d opened the cupboard to see all of the neat, careful labels Edward had made for their mugs, and remembered what a fuss Edward had made about them, his exasperated huffing whenever Alfred, bleary-eyed in the early mornings, had messed up his perfectly organised system. Now, looking over at the sofa, his eye is immediately caught by his favourite soft blue blanket that he always likes to huddle under when he’s cold, the one that Edward had got him for Christmas a few years back. Hastily, he brings his gaze back to the little coffee table, but he immediately feels another twinge of pain in his chest as he realises that Edward’s book is still lying there with his bookmark placed in it, the book that had made him laugh so much that his whole chest was shaking the other week, Alfred rolling his eyes and grinning at him as he washed up.

He should probably tuck that book away somewhere, Alfred thinks to himself. Really, is there _anything_ in this apartment that doesn’t remind him of Edward somehow?

His reverie is interrupted by the sudden sound of the doorbell ringing, making him jump and spill his tea slightly. 

For a split second, he feels a rush of hope - Edward? _Don’t be stupid_ , he chides himself a moment later, his logic catching up to him, _Edward has a key_. 

He checks his watch. It’s pretty early for a visitor, especially an unannounced visitor - eight thirty in the morning. And he’s sitting here wrapped in his dressing gown - which, he realises with another pang, was also a present from Edward. Maybe it’s just somebody delivering something and he can get them to go away quickly? The doorbell rings again insistently.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” Alfred exclaims, heaving himself up from his chair, grumbling to himself as he goes to open the door. 

“Flo?” he says, staring in bemusement. “ _Dad?”_

“Morning, Alfred,” Florence greets him brightly. “You don’t mind if we come in, do you?”

“Well, no, I just…” he splutters, stepping back to let them in automatically. 

“Well, I don’t know why you sound quite so surprised, my boy,” Henry says gruffly, leaning heavily on his walking stick as he follows Florence in. “Surely it must have occurred to you that the cavalry would have been sent in to fetch you eventually.” 

“What?” Alfred asks, starting to feel a little annoyed now. “‘Fetch’ me? Who told you I needed ‘fetching’, Dad?” 

“Your friend here has been rather worried about you,” Henry responds, jerking his head in Florence’s direction. 

Alfred is touched, but he can’t help but shoot her a dark look. Did she really have to go and bring his _father_ into this? Florence flushes a little, looking sheepish. 

“Well, I do _not_ need ‘fetching,’ Dad,” Alfred protests, crossing his arms petulantly. “I’m fine.”

“Oh, well that’s good to hear,” says Victoria mildly, walking in behind Henry and Florence through the still-open door. “I was just parking the car,” she announces, as Alfred stares at her in shock. “But if you’re ‘fine,’ as you say, then I see no reason for you not to come to the cafe today. You’d better get your arse in gear and get dressed, though, Alfred, we’re opening in less than half an hour.” 

“I...I can’t come in,” Alfred protests. 

“And why not?” Victoria demands. “You’ve been off for a week, Alfred, and you just told your dad that you’re fine, so…”

“Okay, I’m not fine, happy?” Alfred exclaims angrily, his voice cracking. “I’ve been sitting here alone in this apartment and I’ve been feeling pretty shitty, if you want to know the truth…”

“Well, given what I’ve heard about the way you behaved at that restaurant last weekend, I’m not surprised you’ve been feeling that way, frankly, Alfred,” Henry says sharply. 

Alfred stares at him, seeing disappointment on his father’s face that reminds him yet again of Edward’s expression before he’d left. Quickly, he reaches up to dash a tear away before the others can see it. 

“How did you know -”

“This is a small town, Alfred,” Henry answers impatiently. “People talk.” 

Alfred stares down at the floor and his father looks at him for a moment, frowning as though deep in thought. 

“Have you apologised to Mina Coke yet?” Henry asks bluntly. 

“No, not yet,” Alfred mutters, squirming a little, feeling his face growing hot with shame as Florence looks at him. “I...I don’t know how to tell her…”

“Well, you’re going to find a way,” Henry answers firmly. “You are going to apologise to that poor girl as soon as possible, young man - but first, you are going to get dressed and come with us to the cafe. To do your job. I know you’re upset, I know you’re ashamed of yourself, I know you’re missing Edward. But you need to get out of this apartment and come to work. Wallowing isn’t going to help anybody, is it?” 

“Your dad’s right, Alfred,” Florence says quietly. 

“It’s time to come back to work, Alfred,” Victoria pipes up. Alfred looks at her, surprised to hear the earnest gentleness in her tone. She doesn’t look pissed off. She looks understanding. “I know things have been crappy for you recently. I get that. But we need you back at the cafe. And yes, obviously I’m saying that because it’s bloody frustrating and inconvenient to be short-staffed and trying to get people to cover you.” Alfred winces slightly, looking down at the floor. “But it’s not just that. We’ve...we’ve been missing you, Alfred. Really. Hartfield Cafe just isn’t the same without you.”

Alfred stares at her. Victoria is cynical and demanding, a difficult person to please. But he can’t see anything except sincerity on her face. 

He sighs. 

“Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay, I’ll come back in.”

“Thank fuck,” Victoria replies with relief. 

“Language,” Henry reprimands, frowning at her. 

“Fine. Thank goodness. Whatever,” Victoria replies, rolling her eyes. “Just hurry the hell up and get dressed, Alfred, we’ve now got about twenty minutes until opening time. So get your arse in gear.” 

Henry huffs in exasperation, and Alfred grins to himself as he hurries away to change. Victoria seems to have got back to form pretty quickly. 

* * *

Alfred has to admit, it’s remarkable how much of a difference it seems to make as soon as he steps back into the cafe. It’s not like everything is perfect again, or anywhere close to it, really, but he can’t help but grin a little when Victoria hands him his apron. Perhaps his dad was right - perhaps he just needed to escape the apartment for a bit. He needs to get back to normalcy - or as close to it as is possible right now, anyway. He’d been worried about having to face the sight of Edward’s empty chair at the counter, but his father immediately sits in Edward’s normal seat as soon as they get to the cafe, claiming that he needs to ‘keep an eye on him’, and ordering his traditional peppermint tea that’s ‘hot but not too hot.’ Alfred doesn’t know if Henry’s chosen to sit in that particular seat to distract him from Edward’s absence, or if he sat there purely by coincidence - but either way, it eases the tightness in his chest a little. 

Still, he can’t help but think about Edward a _little._

“Hey, um...Flo?” he asks tentatively.

“Yes, Alfred?” she asks quickly, smiling at him as though she’s determined to be helpful however she can. 

“Have you...you haven’t heard from Edward lately, have you?” 

He tries his best to sound nonchalant, as though the answer doesn’t much matter to him. 

“Oh,” Florence responds, after a moment’s awkward pause. “Um...yeah, I have, actually.”

“You have?” he exclaims. Florence nods, looking a little uncomfortable, as though she’s not sure she has the answer he actually wants to hear. “What did he say? Did he...did he text you?” 

“Well, I texted him first, just to see how he was doing,” she clarifies. “But he texted me back almost immediately - which was good, I know we’ve both been a bit worried about him lately.” 

“Right,” Alfred says quietly, feeling an odd sinking sensation in his stomach. “And, um...what did he say?”

“Well, I asked him how he was doing over in London, and he said he was fine, apart from Charlotte being loud and Cecilia trying to prank him. And then I asked him when he was coming back, and he said he wasn’t sure yet. But he said...he said he misses me.” 

She flushes slightly as she says it. 

“He misses you?” Alfred asks quietly. 

“Well, I’m sure he meant to say he misses _us_ ,” she says hastily. “But anyway, he’s definitely fine. And I’m sure he’ll be back in Highbury before too long, don’t worry!”

“Right,” Alfred answers, pasting on a smile. “Thanks for the update, Flo.” 

He turns away from her, taking up a cloth and scrubbing the counter roughly without really seeing it. 

That’s the most he’s heard about Edward since he left - and he had to hear it secondhand from Florence, rather than hearing directly from his best friend himself. 

_Are_ they even best friends anymore? He’s tried to get through to Edward _so_ many times this past week, and he hasn’t heard anything at all - yet apparently, Florence can get a reply from him immediately. Evidently, he’s not so busy that he can’t send a text at all - he just won’t send one to Alfred. And if Edward really is ‘fine’, as he told Florence, then he must be coping a hell of a lot better without Alfred than Alfred is without him. 

The tightness in his chest is back again. 

  
  
  


Alfred has only just started the coffee machine up when the bell over the door tinkles. The familiarity of the sound soothes him, even if only a tiny bit. 

He looks up to see Emma Peel walking towards the counter - most unusually, without Robert at her side. Alfred frowns a little as she approaches. Emma is usually calm and poised - but right at this moment, she looks more stressed and uncomfortable than he’s ever seen her. He has the distinct impression that she’s hurried here. 

“Morning, Emma,” Henry greets her with a fond smile. 

“Hello, Henry, lovely to see you,” she replies, laying a hand on his shoulder in absentminded greeting without actually looking at him properly. “And you too, Florence, sweetheart.” 

“What can I get you, Em?” Alfred asks her. “Just your usual, is it?” 

“Yes, just an almond milk latte, thank you,” she says hastily.

“Coming right up,” he answers, turning back to the coffee machine. 

“Want to sit down and entertain a poor old man, Emma?” Henry asks, indicating the seat next to him at the counter. 

“Oh, you are not an ‘old man,’ Henry, don’t be silly,” Emma responds automatically, smiling at him, though Alfred notices it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, which are still anxious. “I’m afraid I don’t have time to sit down with you at the moment, though. Perhaps another time.”

“Oh, getting a takeaway today?” Henry smiles. 

“No, no, that’s not it,” Emma replies, looking awkward now. “It’s just that I was rather hoping to catch Alfred here for a word. A private word.”

Alfred turns around to stare at her in surprise. 

“Oh, I see,” Henry says, sounding rather taken aback. 

“I know it’s a little unorthodox,” Emma says hastily. “But would you perhaps be able to serve me at the corner table over there, Alfred? And would you have time for a quick word?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Alfred answers, a little intrigued.

“Thank you,” Emma says, with a look of relief on her face. “See you in a minute, sweetheart.” 

As he takes her latte over to her a few minutes later, a sudden suspicion comes to Alfred. God, Emma hasn’t come here for a ‘private word’ just so _she_ can tell him off about his behaviour at the restaurant too, has she? Would she come into the cafe just for that? It _would_ be like her, she did have a tendency to act like his mother sometimes…Not that she wouldn’t be absolutely justified in telling him off, of course - he _had_ completely crossed the line that night, and he knows it. 

But still, he’s not sure if he can cope with hearing about Emma’s disappointment in him, along with everyone else’s. He feels shitty enough about it as it is. 

“Here you are, Em - one almond milk latte,” he announces, trying to sound cheery. 

“Thank you, Alfred,” she says, taking a sip.

He sighs slightly as he sits down opposite her. 

“So what’s up?” he asks, hoping his voice doesn’t sound too anxious. “Where’s Robert?”

“He’s at home,” she says, sounding a little awkward.

“Right,” Alfred replies, waiting for her to elaborate. “Um….is everything okay...you know, between…”

“Everything is fine between me and Robert, if that’s what you’re asking,” Emma clarifies. She sighs. “But we have had quite a lot of drama in the house. Will gave Robert some news that rather shocked him last night - I think Robert’s still processing it. And Will...he’s very angry at the moment. And very upset.” 

“What?” Alfred asks, startled. This conversation isn’t going in the direction he’d expected at all. “Will is upset? Why?” 

Emma pauses for a moment, as though she’s not quite sure how to tell him. The way she’s looking at him is strangely gentle - almost pitying. As though she wants to prepare him for bad news. She sighs again.

“As it turns out, Will is upset because...because he’s just been dumped,” she says quietly.

“Wait - _what?_ Dumped?” Alfred echoes, feeling completely at sea now. “Will was in a relationship?” Emma nods silently. Alfred stares at her, stunned. “In a relationship with _who?_ ”

Emma chews on her lip slightly before replying.

“With James Grey.” 

_“What?!”_ Alfred near-shrieks. Henry, Florence and Victoria all turn to stare at them. 

“Alfred, keep your voice down, please,” Emma mutters. 

“Sorry, I just…”

Alfred stares at her, his mind reeling. Will and James. James and Will. Well, he’ll be damned. Apparently, Edward was right. And he was wrong. 

“Will and _James?_ Are you kidding?” Emma shakes her head. “How did _that_ one come out?” 

Emma sighs again.

“Well, Will had been tense and on edge ever since our anniversary party at Box Hill Restaurant last week, when...you know…”

“Yeah, I know,” Alfred says hastily, with another sharp twinge of guilt as Emma hesitates, looking awkward. “Go on.” 

“Well, anyway, Robert was getting increasingly irritated about Will’s moping and his bad mood. The tension was getting pretty awful, they were both sulking but neither of them was saying anything about it. Then, last night, Robert demanded to know what Will’s problem was. He said if there was something wrong, Will needed to either spit it out or stop moping. And, well - that’s when Will snapped. He said he’d spit it out, alright - and he told Robert that his boyfriend, James Grey, had broken up with him after the incident at the restaurant. He said it hurt like hell. I’ve never seen Will so angry and upset, poor boy. I think he was angry with himself as well - he said something about James being furious with him - but he certainly lashed out at Robert. He claimed that all of this is largely Robert’s fault - he seems to think that his relationship wouldn’t have had to be so complicated, he and James wouldn’t have had to keep it a secret at all, if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d been so anxious about Robert’s reaction if he found out. He just...didn’t want his dad to find out that he was in love with a man. I think he might have had a point, I mean Robert was certainly...shocked, to say the least. He’s still trying to process it all, as I said. Although I suspect that James’s aunt might have been another reason the two of them were keeping their relationship secret, while they were both in Highbury, at least. Anyway, Will said James has gone back to London for work now. And last night - on the spur of the moment, I think, after confessing all of this - he decided to go after him. He said, and I quote ‘ _I love him, and I’ll be damned if I’m letting him go without a fight_.’ And then he packed his bags and stormed out and...well, that was that. I imagine he’s probably in London by now.” 

“Well, shit,” Alfred murmurs, struggling to take this all in. It scarcely even seems possible...Will and _James_ … 

“Wait - how long were they together?” he asks. “Did they start dating _after_ Will arrived in Highbury?”

“Oh lord no,” Emma answers. “Apparently, they’d been together for almost a year. They met in London, through mutual friends. It seems Will only came to Highbury in the first place because James came here to help take care of his aunt, and Will wanted to be near him. And I was wrong about the guitar, as well. It was _Will_ who gave James that guitar. He went all the way to London to collect it from James’s favourite music shop. You know, on that weekend when he told everyone he was going to get a haircut?” 

“Of course he did,” Alfred says, shaking his head with a stunned laugh. “Sneaky bastard.” 

He thinks back to Will turning up in the village only after James, the way he had pretended to think him dull even while heading off to visit him because ‘his father had asked him to deliver something.’ 

He remembers Will’s smirk at Pippa’s housewarming party when they had discussed James’s new guitar - now that he thinks about it, Will had looked very much like he was delighting in knowing something nobody else did, though at the time Alfred had assumed he was simply revelling at the prospect of new gossip and scandal. 

Will’s refusal to actually make a move on Alfred, despite the constant flirting, his strangely melancholic mood when he had left for London afterwards... _It’s pretty difficult, isn’t it? When you can’t truly be open?_

And then the way he and James had huddled so comfortably together on the sofa in Edward and Alfred’s apartment a few weeks ago...up until Alfred had made an idiot of himself with his Bananagrams tiles at least, thinking that he and Will were in on James’s secret together, and James had looked at Will with such hurt on his face…

Not to mention, all the times that Alfred had wondered why James seemed so cold and distant around him. But really, it was no wonder James had been acting like that - all along, Alfred had been busy openly flirting with _his_ boyfriend! To be fair, Will hadn’t exactly helped the situation either, but….

Alfred feels another wave of shame and embarrassment crash over him. _God,_ he really has made an idiot of himself these past few months, hasn’t he? 

“I thought I’d better come here and explain it to you as soon as possible,” Emma says gently. “Alfred, I’m so...I’m so sorry.”

“Wait - what?” Alfred asks, baffled afresh now. Emma is still looking at him weirdly, pityingly - as if she’s tempted to hug him, offer him some kind of comfort. “Sorry for _me_ ? _Why?_ ”

“Well,” Emma says awkwardly, looking just as baffled by his reaction, “I know how Will was behaving with you. It wasn’t fair of him to raise your hopes like that. I know you had feelings for him and I understand if you’re furious with him now, but…”

“Feelings for Will? Me?” Alfred asks, laughing a little now that he understands what she’s getting at. “No, Emma. Luckily for me, I was _never_ in love with Will.” 

“....Oh,” Emma replies, looking thoroughly taken aback. “But...but I saw the two of you together...you seemed to be getting along so well…”

“Yeah, well,” Alfred answers with a shrug, feeling another twist of embarrassment. “In hindsight, he was obviously just flirting with me to distract from his relationship. And I should have known better than to go along with it, but I guess it was just flattering, and…” he sighs. “I promise, I was never in love with him. Don’t worry, Emma, Will hasn’t hurt my feelings at all. He only bruised my ego - and, to be honest, it probably needed to be bruised.” 

“Oh,” Emma says after a moment. “I see.” She looks relieved now, the tension gradually disappearing from her shoulders. “Well...thank god for that. So Will _hasn’t_ broken any hearts, then?”

Without warning, Alfred feels another hot rush of guilt sweep over him as realisation hits. He freezes.

 _“Shit_ , _”_ he mutters. “Shit, shit, _shit_.” 

“What?” Emma exclaims in alarm. “What’s wrong? You just told me you don’t have feelings for Will!”

“I don’t,” he groans, tempted to bury his face in his hands. “It’s not _me_ who has feelings for him…”

Slowly, he turns to look at Florence, standing at the counter and looking over at the two of them curiously. Emma follows his gaze. 

Alfred can’t believe this. He’s gone and done it _again._

Hadn’t he sworn, after the whole disaster with Pippa Elton at the Christmas party so many months ago, that he was going to try and stop meddling in Florence’s love life, because he couldn’t bear to see her hurting, her affections unreciprocated? Yet here they are - Florence is about to get her heart broken again and, yet again, it’s _his_ fault. 

Okay, yes, Will had certainly flirted with her a few times - not to mention swooping in to be her knight in shining armour that night when she was accosted at the train station - but in hindsight, none of that had really proved anything. Will is the type to leap dramatically to someone’s rescue just for the sake of adventure, and as for the flirting - well, he was flirting with everyone to try and hide his tracks with James, Alfred himself is living proof of that. He supposes that’s a big part of the reason Will has landed himself in such hot water with James in the first place. Shouldn’t Will’s general flirtatiousness have clued Alfred in a little sooner that he shouldn’t have been leaping to any conclusions?

He supposes this time is different to the Pippa incident, in that Florence had come to _him_ to discuss her feelings for Will and seek advice, unprompted. In fact, as far as he recalls, neither of them had even mentioned Will’s _name_ \- but that was only so Alfred could try and convince himself that he hadn’t been meddling. Nevertheless, Florence had told him about the ‘tall, dark and gorgeous’ man who had rescued her when she was most in need - _obviously_ they’d both known exactly who she was talking about. She’d asked Alfred if it would be stupid of her to raise her hopes this time - and he, complete _idiot_ that he is, had happily told her that she and her ‘mysterious crush’ would make a wonderful couple and she should make sure to let him know how she felt…

How is Florence going to feel, when she realises that Will was never interested in her after all, that he’s been taken all along - worse, how will she feel when she understands that, yet again, Alfred is the one who’s given her terrible advice and raised her hopes in vain? He can hardly bear to think about it. 

“What?” Emma asks. “Are you trying to tell me that _Florence_ is the one who’s fallen for Will, Alfred?”

“Yes,” Alfred groans quietly, uncomfortably aware that Florence is still looking curiously over at the two of them. “God, yes, she’s fallen for him. And you want to know the best part, Emma? It’s my own stupid fucking fault. I encouraged her. I hinted that the two of them would be great together.” 

Emma is looking at him strangely, with an expression that seems somewhere between bewildered and uneasy. 

“Are you _sure_ Florence has feelings for Will, Alfred?” 

“Yeah,” Alfred replies, frowning at her slightly. “Why do you ask?” 

“Just…” Emma hesitates, and then shrugs, as though deciding not to pursue her line of thought, though she still looks strange. “I’m sorry for her, then, poor girl. Will needs to learn to be more careful with people’s hearts.”

“Never mind Will,” Alfred says, slightly hysterically. “ _I_ need to learn to be a better friend!” 

Emma looks at him for a moment.

“So what are you going to say to her?”

He winces. 

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll just have to break the news as gently as possible. And apologise a lot for raising her hopes - again. And just...hope she won’t hate me.”

“She won’t hate you, Alfred,” Emma says gently. “I’ve known you for a long time. I know you can be short-sighted and silly, and even thoughtless sometimes. But I also know that you’ve got a good heart and you’re a wonderful friend whenever it counts. And I’m sure Florence knows that, too.” 

“Thanks, Em,” Alfred mutters, trying to summon a smile. He appreciates her trying to cheer him up, but at the moment he’s really not very convinced he deserves her praise. 

He sighs. So, it seems he now has to apologise profusely for raising Florence’s hopes, as well as apologising profusely to Mina for thoughtlessly hurting _her_ . _Fabulous_ , he thinks, his stomach twisting with nauseating guilt and dread.

But he supposes he has nobody else to blame for any of this but himself. He’s made _such_ a mess of everything. It’s high time he learned to fix the things he breaks. 

* * *

Alfred stands awkwardly on the doorstep, listening to the echoing of the doorbell and trying to calm himself down. 

Mina had certainly seemed surprised to hear from him when he’d texted to ask if he could possibly come and have a chat with her - he guesses he can’t really blame her for being shocked, given his behaviour towards her the last time the two of them were in a room together. Nevertheless, she’d quickly replied that she’d love to see him, which Alfred is fairly sure was a polite lie. _He_ wouldn’t have wanted to see him, if he was in her position. Perhaps she was simply intrigued about what he was going to say. As well she might be; he hadn’t quite worked that part out yet. 

_Just be honest_ , he tells himself, remembering the advice that his father had given him. _Acknowledge her feelings. Don’t make excuses._

Oh god, what if she refuses to accept his apology, though? What if she throws him out? 

_She would be perfectly within her rights to refuse your apology_ , he reminds himself, feeling another twist of unease in his stomach. 

Still trying to calm his breathing, he jumps slightly when the front door opens, a little startled.

“Hi, Alfred!” says Mina, sounding determinedly bright and cheerful, although Alfred notices with another squirm of guilt that her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Hey, Mina,” he responds, smiling back at her. “You look lovely,” he adds awkwardly, gesturing at her full-skirted dress patterned with butterflies. 

“Oh, um...thank you,” she answers, looking a little confused. 

“I, um, I brought something for you,” he says, proffering the little beribboned basket in his hands.

“Oh, thank you…” she says, looking intrigued as she takes it from him. Looking down at it, she lets out a little excited gasp.

“Are these _ginger biscuits_?” 

“Um, yeah,” he responds. 

“ _Thank you,_ Alfred!” she says, her smile much more genuine now. 

“You’re welcome,” Alfred answers, feeling slightly more at ease. He can’t help but grin a little at her excitement. They’re just biscuits. 

He’d happened to remember Florence saying something about Mina absolutely adoring ginger biscuits in particular, back when she’d been gushing about everything Mina said or did. He’d thought he’d tuned most of it out, but luckily this seemed to have stuck for some reason. 

Edward is a better baker than him, so they’d probably have turned out a bit tastier if he’d been there to bake them. In fact, Alfred had almost burst into tears again while he’d been baking, as practically everything in the kitchen had been organised and labelled by his best friend and it had made him feel Edward’s absence all over again. But Mina doesn’t need to know that part. And he’s glad, after all, that he made the effort, given how much she seems to appreciate it. 

“Come in,” Mina says, still smiling at him a little awkwardly as she breaks his reverie. “I’m sure I’ll need some help eating these!”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” he protests as she holds the door open for him. “They’re all yours.” 

Alfred feels the awkwardness and shame settling back over him as he follows Mina into the Duchess’s little living room. 

He can’t help but think of the last time he’d been here, on his father’s orders, to see how the Duchess was doing. Edward had been with him back then, he thinks with a pang. And James Grey had been sitting at that little table, hard at work on his laptop - Alfred remembers being immediately irritated at the sight of him, completely without justification. Now that he thinks about it, that was the first time Mina had let it slip that James and Will had met each other in London; he remembers asking James about Will and being annoyed that James had given him nothing, except to say that Will was ‘a bit loud for his tastes.’ 

He shakes his head slightly. No wonder James had been so circumspect - he’d had quite the secret to keep. A secret that, like most other things that had been happening around this town recently, was none of Alfred’s business. 

“Let me just put these on a nice plate,” Mina says quietly, gesturing to the biscuits. “Please, have a seat, Alfred. Would you like some tea?” 

“Tea sounds lovely, thanks, Mina,” he says, sitting down at the table with an awkward smile. 

“You take it black with one sugar, right?”

“How did you know that?” he asks, staring at her.

“Oh, um...I just remembered Florence mentioning it in passing, months ago,” she responds, blushing a little and looking down at the floor. “She’s really fond of you, you know. You’ve been a great friend to her, from what I gather.” 

Alfred feels another sharp twist of guilt. He _hasn’t_ been a good friend to Florence, no matter how hard he’s tried. He keeps hurting her. And he _certainly_ hasn’t been a good friend to Mina - quite apart from humiliating her at the restaurant the other day, he’s only just beginning to realise how much damage he did by discouraging Florence from accepting her all those months ago. It seems Mina’s feelings for her must have been stronger than he’d thought they were, if she still remembers the things that Florence had chatted to her about so many months ago. 

Still flushing slightly, Mina busies herself with the kettle in the kitchen. The two of them fall into an awkward silence for a few minutes. 

“Here you are,” Mina says, coming over to the kitchen table as she gingerly carries the tea and biscuits. “One piping hot black tea, with one sugar.” 

Her smile is a little overly bright as she passes it to him. Alfred guesses that she’s trying to cover her discomfort.

“Thanks so much, Mina,” he replies, taking the tea with a grateful smile. “Nice to be the one being waited on for a change,” he jokes awkwardly, and she smiles a little as she sits down opposite him. 

Alfred hesitates for a moment, not quite sure how to begin. 

“So, um...how’s your aunt feeling?” he asks. “Is she in at the moment?”

“She is, yes,” Mina responds. “But I don’t think she’s likely to come and say hi, she’s resting at the moment. Physically, she’s fine, or at least nowhere near as bad as she likes to think she is - though don’t tell her I said that. But she was a bit thrown by James suddenly going back to London. And when she heard the news about James having been dating Will Peel for months and months, I think it shocked her even more. She’s still struggling to process it.”

“Well, that news threw me for a loop, too,” Alfred admits. “I’m not surprised if it was a big shock to both of you.”

“Oh, um...it wasn’t really a shock for me,” Mina confesses, flushing a little. “I’ve actually known about it for a while.”

“What?” Alfred asks, staring at her, completely taken aback. “You _knew_?” Mina nods. “How long have you known for?”

“Oh, um...almost a year now, I guess?” she responds sheepishly. “James told me almost as soon as the two of them got together. But he swore me to secrecy and asked me not to spread it around Highbury. Because of our aunt, but also because of Will’s dad, I think.” 

“Wow,” Alfred says, feeling rather impressed now as he stares at her. He would never have imagined that Mina might know about this - he had always thought of her as someone far too chatty to be an effective secret keeper. But apparently, he had underestimated her. 

“But James has split up with him now, right?” Alfred asks. Mina nods.

“Yeah, he has. Personally, I’m not sure that was the best idea he’s ever had - he loves Will very much, and Will makes him laugh, despite how different they are. But I understand why James thought they should break up. There were a lot of pressures on them in Highbury, and James has been getting pretty angry at Will recently. I think the final straw for him was the other night...at the restaurant…”

Mina trails off, turning scarlet with remembered mortification and quickly averting her eyes from Alfred’s, looking down at the floor. Alfred feels another sharp twist of guilt and shame.

“I don’t blame James for being angry at Will about the night at the restaurant,” he says quietly. “But then, Will wasn’t the only one who upset people that night. I behaved awfully, too. _You_ know that better than anyone, I guess.” 

“Alfred...I didn’t mean...I wasn’t trying to say…” Mina stumbles over her words, squirming awkwardly in her seat.

“I have something that I need to say, though,” Alfred says gently. “That’s why I asked if I could speak to you. So...could I say it now, please?”

She hesitates, staring at him, and nods slowly.

Alfred nods too. He takes a deep breath, feeling another vicious twist of guilt as he tries to gather his thoughts before speaking. 

“Mina...I am _so_ sorry about what I said to you the other night. It was petty, and hurtful, and pointlessly nasty, and I had absolutely _no_ right to speak to you that way.”

Mina stares at him, looking almost amazed that he’s bringing any of this up of his own accord. 

“I…thank you for saying that, Alfred,” she responds quietly, tentatively, after what seems like an age of uncomfortable silence. “I, um...I was actually pretty upset about it, to tell you the truth.” 

Another sharp twist of shame. He swallows.

“I know,” he answers. “And it’s totally understandable that you would have been upset. There are absolutely no excuses for what I said to you - I should never, _never_ have said it. And it wasn’t even true, either - _nobody_ thinks you make yourself look like an idiot, Mina. You’re passionate and kind and caring and you wear your heart on your sleeve. To be honest, we would probably all be better off if there were more people like you in the world.”

At that, Mina flushes slightly, beaming at him. 

“Do you really mean that, Alfred?” 

“Yeah, I do,” he says fervently. “Seriously, Mina, I was _so_ wrong to say that to you...I can’t even begin to explain just how sorry I am. I’ve genuinely never felt more ashamed of myself in my life.”

Without warning, the memory of Edward’s expression on the night he’d left comes back to him. Alfred sucks in a breath sharply, feeling tears stinging his eyes. 

“Hey, Alfred...it’s alright…” Mina says gently, reaching out towards him awkwardly. 

“Dammit, I’m meant to be trying to comfort _you_!” Alfred protests half-jokingly. Mina passes him a tissue silently, and he gives her a grateful smile as he dabs at his eyes. 

“Thanks, Mina…” He takes another deep breath, trying to pull himself together. “Anyway, the main point I’m trying to get across is that I’m really, really, _really_ sorry. I just wanted to make sure you knew that. And look, I totally get it if you don’t feel like you can forgive me - hell, _I_ probably wouldn’t want to forgive me if I was in your shoes. But I just thought that…”

“I do forgive you, Alfred,” Mina says quietly.

Alfred stares at her, shocked, wondering if he had heard right. 

“You do?” 

“Well, yes,” Mina says with a shrug, smiling slightly at the dumbfounded look on his face. “I mean, I won’t deny that what you said at the restaurant really hurt me. And I was pretty surprised that you reached out to me afterwards - I figured that you’d want to avoid me and, to be honest, I kind of felt like it might be best for me to avoid you too, at least for a little while. But...well, it’s obvious that you really _are_ sorry. And it must have taken a lot of courage for you to come here and tell me how you made a mistake, and how ashamed of yourself you were. I really appreciate that you did that. And even though I’ve seen that you can be a bit thoughtless and hurtful sometimes - at the end of the day, I still think you’re a good person, Alfred. I would never want to hold a grudge against you.” 

Alfred lets out an astonished little half-laugh, shaking his head slightly. 

“Mina Coke,” he says, “you are a _much_ better person than I am.” 

Mina grins and rolls her eyes, flushing a little again.

“Oh, don’t be so silly, Alfred.” 

The two of them pause for a moment. 

“So...maybe we could try to be friends, then?” Alfred asks tentatively, breaking the silence. He can still hardly believe she’s even willing to _listen_ to him, let alone willing to forgive him for his awful behaviour. 

“Yeah, definitely. Friends,” Mina responds, smiling at him. 

“Thank you,” Alfred breathes, smiling back at her, relief seeping through him. He can’t deny that he feels a little awkward again; he can’t seem to find the words to tell her how grateful he is for her forgiveness. 

“Right, well, um...I should probably be getting going,” he says tentatively as he drains his tea. “I’m supposed to be meeting Florence, I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting…”

“Oh - no, of course not!” Mina agrees, jumping up from her seat hastily. “Let me walk you out…”

Alfred can’t help but notice Mina fidgeting slightly as she walks along the corridor with him. Something tells him that, even though she’s accepted his apology and they’ve agreed to work towards a friendship, it might be a little while before the two of them feel fully comfortable around each other. 

“Well, thank you so much again for coming over, Alfred,” Mina says a little nervously as she opens the front door for him. “Say hi to Florence for me, won’t you?” 

Alfred feels another twist of guilt at the sound of her name - but then a sudden idea comes to him, making him stop and turn back to Mina. 

“Mina,” he begins, “have you been speaking to Florence much recently?” 

“What?” she asks, sounding a little taken aback. “Oh, um...no, not recently,” she answers. “I haven’t spoken to her all that much since….” 

She trails off awkwardly, flushing.

Alfred tries to push past the fresh twinge of guilt. Hopefully, he might have finally found an opportunity to start making amends. 

“It’s just that I think Florence might be about to get some bad news,” he confides, already dreading the conversation with her that lies ahead. “And it occurs to me...I think that she’d love to hear from you. I think you might be able to cheer her up quite a lot.” 

Mina looks at him, bemused, and Alfred raises one eyebrow slightly, willing her to take the hint. She looks down at the ground suddenly, flushing scarlet in embarrassment. He’ll take that to mean she got the hint.

“Oh, um...Florence actually told me she’d prefer to just be friends,” Mina says quietly. “Which is totally fine with me,” she adds hastily, plastering on a smile. “I just want her to be happy, really.” 

Alfred winces a little as he feels another twist of shame. God, he’s got a lot of damage to clear up. 

“Well, yeah - but that was quite a few months ago that she said that, wasn’t it?” he asks, forgetting for a moment that he’s not supposed to know about it.

Mina looks at him, frowning slightly.

“Well, yes, but -”

“You know, Mina, sometimes people can change their minds - if you give them a second chance,” he tells her gently. 

She stares at him, an excited smile beginning to creep across her face. 

“You - you really mean it?” she asks. “You really think that Florence might give me a second chance?”

“Well, I think I’ve learnt by now that I shouldn’t speak _for_ anyone,” he responds cautiously. “But I certainly think that you should check in with her. You won’t ever know unless you try, right? And I really think she’d be lucky to have you, Mina.” 

Mina practically beams at him.

“Okay,” she says excitedly, sounding newly determined. “Ok, I’ll check in with her really soon! Thank you, Alfred!”

“No problem,” he responds, smiling at her as he walks out onto the doorstep. “I’ll see you around, Mina. Enjoy the ginger biscuits.”

And with that, he waves and walks away down the garden path, feeling as though a weight has lifted off his shoulders since he arrived, relieved to think that he might actually, _finally_ , have done something good.

* * *

“So how are you doing, Flo?” Alfred asks later that evening, handing her a glass of wine and hoping that she doesn’t notice his tension.

He’d asked her to come over to their apartment, hinting that there was something he needed to tell her. She’d happily agreed to come - evidently, his text hadn’t set off any alarm bells for her. But for Alfred’s part, he’s desperate to stall as long as possible, before he actually has to break the news about Will and James. 

“I’ve been okay, thanks, Alfred,” Florence replies, smiling at him as she accepts her wine. “Well, I mean...I was a little worried about you. And I’ve been missing him quite a bit. But I’ve been okay other than that.”

“Right,” Alfred mumbles, wincing slightly. “Missing him since he ran off to London, you mean.” 

“Well, yeah,” she answers, looking at him strangely, as though she thinks he’s stating the obvious. “But...like I said, I’m sure he’ll be back before too long!” she adds brightly. 

“Well...I’m not too sure he will, Flo,” Alfred says tentatively, trying to let her down gently. “I mean, he was pretty angry and upset when he left. Mostly at himself, but at his dad too, I think. It might be a while before he comes back.” 

“What?” Florence asks, looking bemused now. “He was angry at his _dad_? But why? What does his dad have to do with anything?” 

“Well…” Alfred says awkwardly. He’d almost forgotten that Florence didn’t know any of this yet. He supposes he’s going to have to start at the beginning.

He sighs. 

“Flo,” he says. “I’m really sorry, but there’s something I have to tell you. And I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

She lowers her wine glass slowly, looking wary. 

“Why? What’s happened?” 

Alfred closes his eyes for a moment, wishing that he didn’t have to hurt her, wishing that he’d never encouraged her. Wishing that he’d never got her into this mess.

He takes a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for the way her face is about to fall. 

“Florence,” he says quietly. “The thing is...Will Peel...he’s in love with James Grey. He’s been in love with him all this time. The two of them were in a relationship for almost a year.” 

“Wait... _what_?” Florence exclaims, looking just as astonished as Alfred had felt when he’d first heard. “Will and James?! Are you serious? I didn’t even think they liked each other that much!” 

To Alfred’s amazement, she doesn’t sound upset. She sounds more intrigued than anything else. 

“Well, yeah, I didn’t think they particularly liked each other, either,” he admits. “But apparently, they were both just covering up. Their relationship was supposed to be a secret in Highbury - they were worried about the reaction from Will’s dad. And from James and Mina’s aunt, too.” 

“I see,” Florence responds. “Well, they did a pretty good job of covering their tracks, then!”

She sounds almost impressed.

“Well...yeah, I guess,” Alfred responds, starting to feel a little uneasy now. Is she trying to spare him from feeling guilty, by pretending she’s not upset?

“Wait,” Florence says, frowning a little now. “Did you say they _were_ in a relationship? Past tense?” 

“Yeah,” Alfred answers, wondering if Florence is thinking she might still have a chance with Will if he’s single again. “James broke up with him recently - after Robert and Emma’s anniversary celebration at the restaurant. Obviously you already know that both of them went back to London a few days ago - well, Will went to London because he was following James there. Apparently, he was pretty upset when James broke up with him. He’s determined to do his best to win him back.” 

He tenses, wishing he didn’t have to shut Florence’s hopes down quite so thoroughly. But, well...she has to know the truth, doesn’t she? 

“Wow,” she says, and Alfred is amazed to hear her laugh slightly, shaking her head. “Well, I have to admit, I never imagined that Will Peel, of all people, could be a romantic. But I wish him luck - I kind of hope those two can manage to work things out. I actually think they would make quite a lovely couple, now that they can actually be open about it.” 

Alfred stares at her. 

“Florence...you’re amazing,” he says, shaking his head slightly. “There can’t be many people in the world who are as sweet and selfless as you.” 

“Don’t be silly, Alfred,” she says, looking a little bemused by his praise. “Wait...why did you think I wasn’t going to like the news about Will and James? Did you think I’d be upset about it or something?” 

“Well...” he says slowly. Is she _really_ deep in denial - or just trying to save face so he doesn’t feel sorry for her? “You do seem to be taking it remarkably well, Flo.”

“But why shouldn’t I?” she asks, frowning. 

“Well, I mean,” Alfred starts, feeling more bemused than ever now, “if _I_ had feelings for Will Peel, and I’d just learnt that he’s been in love with James Grey for months, I definitely don’t think I’d be taking the news as well as you are…”

“Wait, _what_?” Florence exclaims. “Me? Feelings for Will Peel? Where did you get the idea that I’ve ever had feelings for Will Peel, Alfred?”

She looks baffled, but it’s nothing to how Alfred feels. He’s completely at sea now. 

“But...but we discussed it,” he reminds her. “Remember? On the night Will drove you over here from the station? You told me that you’d developed feelings for somebody new, somebody sweet and kind who’d saved you from a terrible situation. You said that you’d been feeling awful and small one moment, but then he came in and made you feel happy and safe and _seen._ And Will had just swooped in to rescue you from that asshole guy at the train station, so...wasn’t that what you were talking about?” 

“ _Oh,”_ Florence says, the bewilderment clearing from her face a little. “Okay, I guess I understand the confusion now. Sorry, I probably should have been clearer. It’s just that you said we didn’t need to say his name, because you didn’t want to meddle too much. I was really grateful that Will helped me get away from that asshole at the station, of course. But no, Alfred, that wasn’t what I was talking about. I was actually thinking about Pippa and Alex’s engagement party, when Pippa sneered at me and told me she was uninviting me. Remember? When Edward suddenly announced that I was his plus-one, and saved me from complete humiliation?” 

Alfred freezes.

“Florence...are you telling me that you have feelings for _Edward_?”

She nods, beaming at him, looking relieved that the penny has finally dropped. 

_No, you_ can’t _date Edward!_ Alfred thinks fiercely, only just stopping himself from blurting it out loud. 

_Whoa._ Where the hell had _that_ thought come from? 

Why shouldn’t Florence date Edward, if she’s interested in him? Alfred hadn’t cared at all when he’d thought she was in love with Will; in fact, he’d been excited to help her. So why can’t he help her now? Why has this revelation made his heart sink through the floor? Why does this suddenly _hurt_ so much?

 _Shit_ , Alfred thinks, stunned speechless as the epiphany hits him in the face with the force of a slap, far too late. _There’s nobody else for me but Edward. I love him. I'm in love with Edward Drummond._

Florence doesn’t seem to notice anything, launching into gushing praise of Edward, how lovely and gorgeous he is, how he’s sweeter and kinder than any man she’s ever known. 

_Well, of fucking_ course _he’s lovely and gorgeous_ , Alfred thinks, scarcely listening as shock and pain course through him. _He’s Edward Drummond._

Finally, as Florence waxes lyrical about his best friend, Alfred understands why he was so upset by Emma’s suggestion that Edward might have fallen for James. He understands why he’s always hated it so much when Edward gets upset with him, why he couldn’t _bear_ seeing the look on Edward’s face the night he’d left, why he couldn’t seem to stop crying for about three days after Edward had walked out, why he’s been feeling so hollow and empty and _lost_ since he’s been gone. 

_Wait...how_ long _have I been in love with my best friend? Since when?_ Alfred asks himself, searching his heart. 

_Since forever._

The answer comes immediately, so easily that it shocks him - yet he knows, without a doubt, that it’s true. 

He remembers, back when he’d thought Will might have developed feelings for him, how he had tried to figure out if he had fallen for Will in return. He remembers reasoning that it was difficult to tell, because he had no clue what being in love felt like, telling himself that he needed to at least wait a few days to see how it felt being without Will. 

But he’d barely been able to function like his normal self, from the moment Edward had walked out of their apartment. 

As it turns out, he _does_ know what being in love feels like. Love feels like...being with Edward. But he can’t really look back and pinpoint a specific _moment_ when he’d fallen in love with his best friend. It seems like being in love with Edward Drummond comes so naturally to him, has become such an inherent part of who he is as a person, that he never even noticed it for what it was. He’s never realised that he’s been in love with his best friend all along - until this moment, when he’s already lost him, and his other best friend is telling him that she’s in love with Edward too. 

God, how could he have been so _blind_? 

“Um...Alfred, are you okay?” Florence asks tentatively, pausing in her gushing for a moment as she looks at him in concern. “You’ve gone pretty quiet.” 

Alfred blinks, struggling to pull himself together. 

He _can’t_ show Florence how flustered he is right now, how much this hurts. After all, _he_ was the one who’d encouraged her to go for it, to let Edward know how she felt - unintentionally, but still. It really wouldn’t be fair to her to give her the cold shoulder now, to get weird or jealous or possessive, to make her feel guilty. Him and his stupid _matchmaking_ \- in reality, he’s spent all this time being completely oblivious about _everyone’s_ feelings, including his own. This entire mess is, as usual, his own stupid fault; he has nobody but himself to blame. 

“Sorry, I’m uh...pretty slow today,” Alfred says quietly. It probably doesn’t make much sense, but he’s worried that if he tries to speak any louder, he might just burst into tears. “Have you, um...told Edward about your feelings for him?” 

Florence shakes her head.

“No, not yet. I was working towards it, but... he left town, as you know, obviously, and...well, it doesn’t really feel like something that I should tell him over a text or call.”

“Right, of course not,” Alfred mumbles. “But, um...has he given you any signs? That he has feelings for you too, I mean?” 

God, he’s _really_ not sure he wants to hear the answer to that question, but...he has to know. 

Florence blushes and nods tentatively.

“Oh, Alfred, I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high, but...I really think he _has_ been giving me signs!”

Alfred’s stomach seems to fall through the floor.

“He...he has?”

She nods again. 

“Well, before he left, he’d been spending quite a lot of time with me, talking and laughing and...and I _think_ he might have been flirting. Oh, Alfred, he’s always so kind and sweet to me - and he texted me back immediately when I asked how he was doing in London, as you know, and he told me he’s really been missing me. He even texted me the other day to ask me if I’m seeing anybody right now!”

Alfred stares at her.

“Edward asked you if you were single?” 

Florence nods again, beaming happily. 

“He did, yes - and that definitely seems like a sure sign that he’s interested, right?” 

Alfred nods reluctantly, trying his best not to cry. 

He thinks back to the way Edward had smiled at Florence at Pippa and Alex’s engagement party, the way he’d been animatedly chatting and laughing with her in the kitchen on the evening that Will and James came over. He remembers how upset Edward would get with him, whenever he came up with some scheme that might accidentally end with Florence getting hurt. The way Edward had been so worried when Will had mentioned something about an incident at the station, so relieved to see that Florence was safe that he had thanked _Will Peel_ , of all people. The way Edward had responded to her texts straight away, even while he was completely refusing to answer Alfred’s calls.

It feels like there’s a cold blade twisting into his chest. He hopes it’s not obvious on his face - he _really_ doesn’t want to make Florence feel guilty right now, it just wouldn’t be fair. After all, he can hardly blame her for falling for Edward. Who wouldn’t? 

For a moment, they both fall silent, Alfred still struggling to process everything he’s learnt in the last few minutes. Perhaps Florence _has_ picked up on something, at least a little - the silence seems deafening. He would never have imagined he could feel this uncomfortable around Florence, that he would struggle not to recoil from her. Here he’d been, dreading the thought that he was going to have to hurt her. He could never have guessed that _she_ was going to hurt _him_. 

“Alfred,” Florence says quietly, breaking the silence finally with a strange look on her face. “You’re my best friend, I hope you know that.” He nods numbly, which she appears to take as permission to continue. “You’ve helped me so much - I never used to feel this confident about _anyone_ having feelings for me, I would have doubted myself so much. But now I’ve actually learned to _believe_ in myself, and...well, I think that’s mostly thanks to you. I could never have asked for a better friend, Alfred. And...if things _do_ work out for the best between me and Edward, I know that you’ll be happy for us.”

Alfred just stares at her. He can’t seem to find the words to respond. 

After another moment of uncomfortable silence, Florence suddenly stands up from the sofa.

“Well...it’s getting late, I should probably, um...head home,” she announces, tucking her hair behind her ear awkwardly.

It’s only nine o’clock. Okay, so she’s definitely picked up on his discomfort, even if she doesn’t understand it. Not that Alfred is in the mood to complain about her early exit. 

“Right, of course,” he says quickly, jumping up from the sofa hastily and attempting a smile. “I’ll walk you out. Got your coat?” 

“Yep,” she says, showing it to him.

She picks up her bag and the two of them walk over to the front door together in silence. 

“Right, well...thanks for inviting me over, Alfred,” Florence says awkwardly as he opens the door for her, hoping he doesn’t seem too eager to have her gone. She offers him a smile which looks almost as forced as his own. 

“Any time, Flo,” he responds, without meeting her eyes. “You know that.” 

She hesitates for a moment, as though she wants to say something else. But she closes her mouth, seeming to decide against it. Giving him a nod and a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, she walks out, and Alfred closes the door quietly behind her, relieved to be alone again. 

Slowly, in the echoing silence, Alfred sinks down onto the sofa, just as he had done on the night Edward had left. He still feels numb with shock at the revelations of the evening.

 _So I’m in love with my best friend_ , he thinks to himself. _Only took me about five years to realise. I’m in love with Edward Drummond - and I always have been._

He thinks back to the expression of anger and disappointment on Edward’s face on the night he had left, the way he had been stubbornly ignoring Alfred’s attempts to get through to him ever since. He sucks in a sharp breath, as though somebody had just punched him hard in the stomach, feeling his eyes welling with tears again. He hadn’t even realised it was possible to hurt this much over somebody. 

The reality is that he’s lost his chance with Edward - if he ever had one, that is. Lost it before he even knew how much he needed it. 

But from what he can tell, _Florence_ still has a chance with Edward. He doesn’t want to admit that fact, but it’s true. He doesn’t know how he’d ever be able to bear the pain, if Edward has feelings for Florence too, if the two of them were to start dating. But, well...if Edward is in love with her, then dating her is what would make him happy, isn’t it? Impatiently, he reaches up to brush away the tear that’s escaping down his cheek. 

He’s caused enough damage already - he can’t cause more by standing in the way of his two best friends in the world, preventing them from being happy with each other. Even if one of those two best friends also happens to be the man he loves. 

_Well, that’s what love is, isn’t it?_ Alfred thinks to himself. _Putting his happiness above mine?_

He’s pretty sure he can feel his heart snapping cleanly in two. 

If Florence is right...if Edward really _does_ love her back...then Alfred will just have to grin and bear it, try not to let either of them see how much it hurts. 

He has to let him go. Edward’s happiness comes first. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly there now...


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred has been dazed since learning that he and Florence are both in love with Edward.   
> But when Edward finally returns, there are yet more revelations in store...

“Shit, sorry…”

Florence deftly catches the plate that had just slipped through Alfred’s fingers before it hits the floor and smashes. 

“Hey, Alfred? Are you okay?” she asks him gently, looking at him in wide-eyed concern. 

“What? Yeah, of course,” he insists, without meeting her eyes. “Sorry, I guess I just...zoned out for a moment there.”

She doesn’t look convinced. 

“Here, I’ll take that back to the kitchen for you, Flo,” he says, taking the plate hastily before she can protest and walking away from Florence so that he can hide his face. 

Alright, so he’s definitely  _ not  _ doing okay. 

Truthfully, he had just freaked out and nearly dropped the plate he’d been holding because he’d caught a glimpse of somebody with dark curls walking along outside on the pavement. For a split second he’d thought that Edward was back in Highbury, dropping into the cafe without warning. But a moment later, the guy had turned around so Alfred could see his face, and he’d realised with another dull blow to his stomach that it wasn’t Edward at all. Of course it wasn’t. It was just some guy. 

But Florence certainly didn’t need to know about that stupid little freak-out. Though come to think of it, she’d probably have been able to tell him it wasn’t Edward, Alfred thinks bitterly, given that she’s currently in contact with him, and he’s not. 

It’s been three days since Alfred realised that he and Florence are  _ both  _ in love with Edward, and it doesn’t hurt any less. He hadn’t thought it was possible to miss Edward any more than he already did - but apparently, it is. 

The revelation that Edward is, and always has been, the love of his life, seems to have turned Alfred’s whole world upside down. The apartment feels even colder and lonelier without him. Unable to sleep, Alfred has even taken to curling up in Edward’s abandoned bed over the past few nights, trying to battle the overwhelming empty feeling, searching for remnants of his best friend’s familiar, comforting scent. If anybody had told him two weeks ago that he’d be behaving like this, feeling this way, he’d have laughed - he who always prided himself on his independence, who’d always claimed that he never got romantically attached. But as it turns out, he definitely needs Edward. And the worst thing is, he feels like he can’t  _ tell  _ anybody about this, he can’t  _ share _ this love and adoration with anyone. 

Edward and Florence are his best friends in the world, he usually tells them everything. But this...well, he can’t tell Edward, for obvious reasons. Edward still isn’t even speaking to him at the moment, for one thing. 

And Florence...he can’t hurt her like that. He just  _ can’t _ . And if she’s right, if Edward loves her back, he thinks, feeling another sharp twist of pain at the prospect - well, telling Florence that  _ he _ loves Edward too would only serve to make him feel like a colossal idiot, on top of making Florence feel guilty for upsetting him. 

So no, he can’t hurt Florence. But he still needs to do  _ something  _ to preserve his own feelings, to stop himself from cracking along his fault lines even more, and at the moment, he’s finding that the best way to do that is to avoid Florence - as much as that’s possible, at least. It’s not the easiest thing in the world, given that they work together, they’re close friends - or at least, they were until three days ago - and Alfred has repeatedly told her that she should feel comfortable coming to him with  _ anything _ . 

Right now, though, he feels like he  _ has  _ to take a bit of a breather from the woman that Edward has most likely fallen in love with, close friend or not. It’s either that, or start crying right here in the middle of the cafe. 

Having returned the plate to the kitchen, Alfred quickly ducks into the storeroom at the back, leaning against the wall and inhaling deeply for a moment to try and calm himself down.

“Alfred?” Victoria’s voice makes him jump slightly. “What are you doing in here?” 

“Oh, I just...I just wanted to see if you needed any help, Vic!” he says brightly. 

She raises one eyebrow slightly. Alfred sighs. 

“And I kind of need some quiet for a bit,” he admits. 

God,  _ must  _ his voice crack like that, making it so embarrassingly  _ obvious  _ that he’s on the brink of tears right now? 

He waits for Victoria to roll her eyes at him, to remind him that there isn’t really enough work for two to be done here, to shoo him back out to the front counter to work with Florence. But to his surprise, she doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, she looks at him with sympathy written across her face. 

“Yeah, okay,” she says quietly. “Could you maybe sort out the pasta and the flour over there? I’ll work out the front for a bit - unless you’d prefer company, that is?” 

Alfred stares at her, a little shocked by the lack of sarcasm.

“I’ll be okay by myself for a bit, Vic,” he says awkwardly. “Thanks, though.” 

Victoria nods. She even offers him a small smile before walking out. 

Alfred exhales slowly, before sitting down to work. As he methodically sorts through the bags of flour, desperately trying to keep himself focused solely on what’s in front of him, he can’t help but remember another time when he’d fled to the back room here to get some space from Florence, many months ago now. Back then, he’d been trying to give her some alone time with Pippa Elton of all people, having genuinely believed that the two of them might fall for each other. He almost laughs at the memory of his own colossal idiocy, but a moment later, he finds himself tempted to tears again. 

He would never have imagined that so much could change. How could he have known that one day, only months later, he’d be running to the back room to  _ escape  _ from Florence, from the awkward hurt of being around her while knowing that they’re  _ both _ in love with Edward Drummond? 

He sits there for about half an hour, sorting through the bags, trying desperately not to think about anything else. He’s  _ not  _ going to think about Edward coming back only to confess his feelings for Florence. He’s  _ not  _ going to think about Edward and Florence dating. Oh god, but what if Edward decides to move out of the apartment for good, and he moves in with Florence instead... _ No _ , dammit, he’s  _ not  _ going to think about that!

He tries to force himself to focus on the work, but the fact is that there really isn’t enough to do in the storeroom to keep him occupied. 

Alfred takes a deep breath, fighting back the tears, before laughing at himself a little. He’s being ridiculous. Florence isn’t going to hurt him - or at least, not intentionally. He needs to pull himself together, at least until this stupid shift finishes. 

He inhales deeply again, squaring his shoulders and trying to arrange his face into a relaxed expression before walking back out to the front room.

Florence looks up from where she’s standing at the coffee machine, offering him a somewhat awkward smile. Alfred hesitates for a moment, knowing that he should probably join her; but to his immense relief, the bell above the door tinkles at that moment, and he looks up to see that Emma Peel has wandered in again. A welcome distraction.

“Morning, Em,” he says, giving her a grateful smile as she walks up to the counter. 

“Morning, sweetheart,” she responds with a sigh. She already looks exhausted, though it’s barely ten o’clock. Alfred can definitely relate. 

“Just your usual?”

“With an extra shot of coffee, please...or three,” Emma sighs, rolling her eyes a little. “And I might just sit at the corner table again today, if that’s alright.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Alfred answers quickly, feeling a little surge of relief. “Go make yourself comfortable, Em, I’ll bring it to you in a moment.” 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she responds, smiling gratefully at him before walking away to sit down.

“Here you are,” Alfred announces a few minutes later, his voice determinedly cheerful. “One large almond milk latte, extra coffee included.”

“Thank you so much,” Emma replies, taking a long sip. “God, I really needed that this morning.”

“So what’s the news?” Alfred asks, sitting down opposite her. “Any updates? I see Robert’s not here - is he doing okay?”

Emma sighs, fidgeting with her mug slightly. 

“Well, you know...I think he’s as okay as could be expected, given the circumstances. I don’t think he’s particularly  _ comfortable  _ with the revelation that Will is in love with another man -”

“Which is pretty bloody ridiculous of him,” Alfred interjects, scowling a little. 

Of course he already knew that Robert was blustering, pompous, old-fashioned and a little narrow-minded; but it still stings to know that somebody he always considered a friend could be latently homophobic, in a way that made his son choose to keep his relationship with another man secret for so many months. 

“I know it is,” Emma sighs, taking another sip of her latte. “I’ve been busy trying to talk him round over the past few days. I think he’s starting to come to terms with it now - he’s realising that the most important thing is for Will to be happy. And he’s been feeling guilty; he certainly never meant to upset Will so much, and it never occurred to him in a million years that Will would feel like he had to hide his love life from him. I mean...you know how oblivious Robert can be.” 

Alfred pulls a sceptical face. 

“Has Robert been in contact with him?”

“Will wasn’t taking his calls for a while,” Emma replies, a touch awkwardly, “but Robert managed to finally get through to him this morning. He told him that he’s not angry, just shocked, and that he’s still processing the news. But he also told Will that he loves him and he misses him. Apparently Will told him he’s not in the mood to talk now and that he needs to clear his head a bit - but he promised he’d be in touch soon.” 

Well, that was more than he’d got from Edward recently, Alfred reminds himself glumly, feeling an unpleasant jolting sensation in his stomach. 

“And Will?” he asks, forcing himself to come back to the present. “Do you know how he’s been doing? With James, I mean?” 

“He messaged me about it,” Emma replies. “It seems he’s more willing to talk to me than to his father at the moment. Apparently, it took a little while before James answered his calls; he was pretty angry with him.”

“Understandably,” Alfred murmurs. 

Emma looks a little shocked, and Alfred remembers with another twinge of guilt that he’d never made much secret of the fact that James was hardly his favourite person in the world. He realises now, of course, that he’d never had any good reason for his dislike of James; it had been born out of nothing more than a lingering insecurity that James was more accomplished and a better person than  _ he  _ was. Which is probably a bit pathetic, now he comes to think of it. And with the way Will had been behaving, flirting with everyone around him to try and cover his tracks, James has every right to be furious with him. Not to mention the way Alfred had been openly flirting back with Will, unknowingly exacerbating the situation the whole time…

“So,” Alfred adds, mentally shaking himself, “I’m guessing those two haven’t got back together, then?”

Emma shakes her head.

“Not yet, as far as I know. But Will told me he’s apologised profusely to James, and reminded him how much he loves him. And apparently, James has agreed to meet Will for dinner tonight. Just to talk, he told Will. But Will is definitely hopeful. He seems pretty convinced that James is starting to soften.”

“So he thinks James might take him back?” 

“Well,” Emma shrugs with a small smile. “I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see. But I have to admit, I’m hoping he manages to get through to him. Will seems a bit lost without him.” 

“I hope he gets through to him, too,” Alfred agrees, surprising himself a little. 

Will might have caused a lot of trouble, and wounded Alfred’s ego to boot, but at the end of the day, Alfred is still fond of him, and he still wants him to be happy.

“That’s very kind of you, sweetheart,” Emma replies, smiling at him. 

Silence falls between them for a moment as Emma takes another sip of her latte. 

“Oh gosh, I forgot to ask,” she says suddenly. “How has Florence been doing? Is she alright?” 

“What?” Alfred asks blankly.

“Well, you told me the other day that Florence was going to be quite upset,” Emma reminds him, looking bewildered at his surprise. She glances quickly over her shoulder to check that Florence isn’t currently listening, before turning back to Alfred and speaking in an undertone. “Remember? You were telling me that she’d fallen for Will, and the silly man had been encouraging her with all his flirting, and you weren’t looking forward to breaking the news about Will and James?”

“Oh, right,” Alfred says in a small voice. 

“So? Is she okay?”

Alfred is silent for a moment.

“Yeah, Florence is fine,” he says quietly. “She, um...she hadn’t fallen for Will after all. I...I misunderstood.” 

He blinks desperately, knowing his voice sounds hoarse with unshed tears. 

Emma looks at him. She doesn’t seem particularly surprised. There’s a little too much understanding in her expression for Alfred’s liking. 

“I see,” she says. She pauses for a moment. “Are you okay, Alfred?” 

“What?” he responds, forcing a little laugh. “Yeah, of course I’m okay, Em!”

She raises an eyebrow slightly. Alfred flushes.

“I mean...I will be, anyway,” he mutters. 

He looks down at the table, unable to bear the sympathy in her eyes. Seriously, is he the  _ only  _ one who hadn’t realised he was in love with his best friend?

“You know I’m always here, right, sweetheart?” Emma says quietly.

He nods, still not looking at her. 

After a moment of silence, Alfred stands up awkwardly, needing to do something, keep himself occupied somehow to stop himself from crying. 

“I should probably…” he gestures towards the counter. 

“Right, of course,” Emma agrees. “I’ll come up and pay now, just a second…”

She gathers up her bag and follows him up to the counter.

“Right, well, I should probably go check on Robert…” she sighs, rolling her eyes a little as she taps her card against the reader.

“Let me know how Will’s doing, yeah?” Alfred asks.

“Of course,” Emma answers. “And Alfred....take care of yourself, sweetheart. Okay?” 

Alfred swallows.

“Okay. Thanks, Em.” 

She gives him a small, sad smile, squeezing his hand gently before turning and walking out of the cafe. 

“Alfred?” Florence asks awkwardly. “Are...are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m alright, thanks Flo,” he responds, without meeting her eyes. 

She pauses for a moment.

“Would you like to hang out after work today?” she asks tentatively.

There’s an uncomfortable silence for a moment.

“Maybe not today, Flo,” Alfred answers, trying to smile. “I’m just...I’m pretty tired right now. But thanks for the offer.”

“Oh. Okay,” Florence says in a small voice. 

Alfred turns to put Emma’s mug away, willing himself not to cry.

* * *

Later that evening, his shift  _ finally  _ finished, Alfred swears quietly to himself as he realises that the door to the apartment is unlocked. He could have sworn he’d locked it this morning before leaving for work, but apparently not. So after the day he’s had, it’s entirely possible he’s about to walk in to find that half of his and Edward’s stuff has been stolen. He thinks maybe he’s going to need a glass of wine tonight. Or four. 

He opens the door, already feeling exhausted, hangs his coat up on the rack, throws his keys down in the fruit bowl, turns around - and freezes. 

Edward is standing in the living room.

The wave of relief and joy Alfred feels at the sudden sight of his best friend almost makes him dizzy. For a moment, he wonders whether he’s finally cracked, whether he’s just imagining what he’s been so longing to see. 

But no, it  _ must  _ really be him, he realises a moment later.  _ That’s  _ why the door was already open when he came in. 

“Edward?” he breathes, taking a tentative step forward. “You...you’ve come back.”

Edward nods slightly. He looks nervous, even as he gives Alfred a small smile, his eyes never leaving Alfred’s face. 

“Yeah,” he confirms quietly. 

Alfred inhales deeply. 

“Sorry, I probably should have texted to let you know or something,” Edward adds hastily. “But it was kind of a spur-of-the-moment decision, I guess, and I just thought…”

But he doesn’t get to finish the sentence, as Alfred, his feet seeming to carry him forwards of their own volition, quickly closes the gap between them, wrapping his arms tightly around his best friend. Edward freezes for a moment, in apparent shock, but he relaxes into Alfred’s hug almost immediately, wrapping his arms around him in turn.

“I fucking  _ missed  _ you,” Alfred breathes, his words slightly muffled against Edward’s shoulder. 

“I missed you too, Alf,” Edward responds, resting his chin on Alfred’s hair as he tightens his arms around him. 

_ God _ , Alfred could happily just stay here forever, breathing in Edward’s familiar clean scent, fitting perfectly into his warm arms. Tucked up into his best friend’s hug like this, the apartment  _ finally  _ feels like home again. It takes everything in him not to whisper  _ I love you  _ against Edward’s shoulder.

And then, without warning, he feels his stomach drop through the floor, as he remembers suddenly that Florence has fallen for Edward, and he’s probably fallen for her in return. Edward isn’t his, no matter how much he’s yearning for him at this moment. He needs to stop himself right now, he needs to stop getting his hopes up like this. 

Utterly overwhelmed, Alfred feels his eyes suddenly welling with fresh tears. 

“Alf? What’s wrong?” Edward asks, alarmed. 

“It’s just…” Alfred searches for a way to explain himself without freaking Edward out. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry about what I said at the restaurant that night, Edward, I’m so  _ so  _ sorry. You were completely right. I had absolutely no right to speak to Mina like that, it was  _ horrible.  _ I went to apologise to her while you were away, I brought her cookies, though obviously they’d have been nicer if  _ you’d  _ baked them, but…”

He’s rambling, he knows that, but he can’t seem to stop himself. 

“Mina said she forgives me, though god knows I don’t deserve it. I really am so, so, sorry, Edward. You were right.” 

Edward looks at him for a moment, his beautiful dark eyes soft and apologetic.

“I know you’re sorry, Alf,” he says quietly. “I saw your text. I should have responded, I was just...cross with you, and I was upset, and I was missing you, and everything was overwhelming, and I thought that I needed time and space to clear my head...I knew you would realise the mistake you made and apologise to Mina soon enough. I know it’s just not in your nature to be nasty to anyone, not without tormenting yourself afterwards, at least. I had faith in you. And...and  _ I’m  _ sorry, too. I shouldn’t have been so harsh that night, and I shouldn’t have left you hanging for so long without a word. I was angry and I needed space, but...the last thing I would  _ ever  _ want to do is hurt you, Alf.” 

“No, Edward, you didn’t hurt me,” Alfred responds, shaking his head vehemently. “I mean, I  _ was  _ hurting, and I was missing you like crazy, but none of that was anybody’s fault but mine. Everything you said to me was entirely called for; you were right, as always. And speaking of you always being right - apparently I should have listened to you when you told me about Will and James, too. I guess I owe you an apology about  _ that  _ as well, given I insisted you were wrong. As it turns out, I’m an idiot.” 

Edward gives him a strange look, almost sympathetic. There’s something else written across his face too, something underneath, something Alfred can’t quite read. 

“Robert told me about Will’s confession, and about him running off after James,” he says softly. “That...well, that was the final straw that motivated me to come back.”

Alfred frowns a little, not following Edward’s train of logic. 

“Um...why?” he asks. “I mean, I’m fucking glad to have you back, obviously, but...what have Will and James got to do with it?”

Edward frowns back at him slightly.

“Well, I...I knew how upset you’d be,” he says, as though he’d thought it was obvious. “I mean, I never thought much of Will, as you know, but...I still can’t believe he did that to you. Flirting with you. Raising your hopes, making you believe he reciprocated your feelings - when all the while, he was already in a relationship. Frankly, it was  _ horrible  _ of him to play with your heart like that. So I...well, I figured you might need me. To vent to, for a shoulder to cry on, or even just to pass you the tissues. I realised I couldn’t stay away anymore, not when you might need someone to take care of you.”

Edward is still looking at him sympathetically, but something else flits momentarily across his face - something that looks almost like pain. 

Alfred feels his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.  _ God,  _ he loves this man. How had he ever managed to miss it, when he’s so in love that it’s literally making his chest ache?

“You thought I was in love with Will?” he asks quietly. He’s really struggling to articulate his feelings right now. 

“Well...yeah,” Edward responds, his voice sounding strangely hoarse as he says it. He swallows. “Alfred, I know you must be hurting, and I wish I could take the pain away right now. But all I can tell you is that time will heal the wound, even if it doesn’t feel like it at the moment. And I won’t leave again - from now on, I’ll always be here when you need me. I promise.”

“Edward, wait - slow down,” Alfred replies, trying to ignore the way his heart is swelling in his chest. “I’m not in love with Will Peel.” 

Edward freezes, staring at him.

“You’re...you’re not?” 

Alfred shakes his head.

“No, I’m not. And I never have been. I’ll admit there was a brief time when I wondered if I might have developed feelings for him, but...no. I wasn’t heartbroken over the news at all - I just got a bit of a bruised ego and felt like an idiot, that’s all.” He hesitates. “I know I should never have flirted with him, Edward,” he admits, feeling a sharp twinge of guilt that has become very familiar by this point. “I didn’t know that he was with James, of course, but still…” He sighs. “I guess I just got carried away enjoying the attention and flattery. But no, I’ve never been in love with Will Peel. My heart was always safe. From him, at least.”

He flushes slightly as he finishes speaking and looks down at his lap, wondering if he’s accidentally said too much.

Silence falls between them for a few moments. Edward stares into the middle distance, apparently processing this revelation. 

Then, he turns back to Alfred, giving him a soft, tentative smile. His whole face seems suddenly to have lit up, his dark eyes soft and warm. 

“Well then,” Edward says quietly. “If that’s the case, then I think there’s something else I really need to tell you, Alf. Something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.”

Immediately, Alfred feels his stomach drop through the floor again. 

Oh god. This is it. This is the moment when Edward, the man he loves more than anybody in the world, is going to confess to him that he’s fallen for Florence. And  _ he  _ was the one who had introduced his two best friends to each other in the first place. There’s nothing he can do to stop this - he can’t hurt them. But he can already feel his heart cracking in his chest.  _ Shit _ . He can’t do this right now. He just can’t. 

“No,” he says hastily, his voice croaky with unshed tears. 

Edward looks at him, his expression thoroughly taken aback.

“‘No’?” he echoes bemusedly. 

“I...I can’t....I just...I don’t think I’m ready to hear it, Edward,” Alfred says, struggling to keep his breathing even, not to give in to crying. “I just...I can’t do this right now.” 

He catches sight of Edward’s face falling as he instinctively hurries away to the kitchen, looking for somewhere to hide, looking for something,  _ anything  _ to do so that he can delay hearing the news that he already knows, the news that Edward has fallen in love with somebody else. 

Alfred leans against the kitchen counter with his back to the living room, breathing hard as he tries to calm himself down, hastily dashing a tear away from his cheek. 

He glances over his shoulder cautiously. Edward has sunk down onto the sofa, biting his lip as though he’s trying to force back his own tears. He seems to have shrunk into himself slightly.

Alfred feels a sickening wave of guilt. He can’t behave like this. It isn’t fair.

If Edward is excited about Florence and he wants to share that excitement with him, then Alfred will just have to be excited for him - or at least, put on as convincing a show as he can while feeling like something is tearing deep in his chest. Edward is his best friend in the world, he’s counting on Alfred to celebrate with him. Yes, he’s also the love of Alfred’s life, and he always will be. But that’s what love is. He  _ has  _ to try his best to put his own inconvenient feelings aside. 

Edward comes first. There is no truth more certain than that. 

Slowly, dread filling him with every step, Alfred walks back to the living room, perching tentatively on the sofa next to Edward. 

“Sorry. That was rude of me,” he murmurs, fidgeting a little, finding himself not quite ready to meet Edward’s eyes. “I just…” He swallows, desperately trying to get his feelings under control. “Sorry. Whatever it is you wanted to tell me - I’m listening. I am here for you. I will  _ always  _ listen to you and support you as your friend, Edward.” 

He can feel his heart cracking in his chest just a little bit more as he says the words. He blinks frantically. 

“As my friend?” Edward asks quietly. His mouth trembles, his dark eyes sad. “Are you saying that’s what you want?” 

“What...what do you mean?” Alfred asks, frowning slightly, puzzled now. 

“What I’m trying to say, Alf,” Edward murmurs, looking intently at him, forcing Alfred to make eye contact, “is that I don’t _ want _ to be your friend anymore.”

“What?!” Alfred exclaims, feeling as though something has pierced his chest. “But...but you said you’d forgiven me! Please, Edward, please, just -”

“I haven’t finished, Alf,” Edward says, interrupting him in his downward spiral, a small grin starting to spread across his face now. 

“Oh,” Alfred says in a small voice.

“What I was  _ trying  _ to say,” Edward continues, “is that I don’t want to be  _ just  _ your friend anymore. I want to be so,  _ so  _ much more than just...your friend.” 

Alfred stares at him, his heart suddenly pounding. He hardly dares to believe that he’s understanding him right. 

“You mean…” he whispers. 

Edward swallows and nods silently. Tentatively, he reaches out to cup Alfred’s face gently in his big, warm hands, looking at him with soft eyes, as though Alfred is the most precious thing in the world. 

“You know I’m not very good at making speeches, Alf,” he murmurs. “But the thing is...I don’t have the words to tell you how in love with you I am. Maybe...maybe if I loved you less, I could talk about it more.” 

Alfred stares at him, feeling his eyes welling with fresh tears. 

He was wrong. Again. Edward doesn’t love Florence after all. Edward loves  _ him.  _ He searches for words, but he can’t seem to find any right now. He can only stare at Edward. 

“Alfred?” Edward asks, his expression starting to take on a nervous edge now, as Alfred stays silent. “Say something,” he pleads quietly. 

And finally, Alfred finds the right words.

“Kiss me?” he whispers. 

The nervousness vanishes from Edward’s expression as his face splits into a huge, beaming smile, his dark eyes welling with tears. 

“I thought you’d never ask, you idiot,” he whispers back. 

Alfred lets out a small, shaky laugh, his voice breathless with anticipation. 

Edward leans in slowly, his hand trembling a little as his thumb strokes gently across Alfred’s cheek. Finally,  _ finally _ , he presses their lips together softly. 

Alfred gives a small sigh, smiling against Edward’s mouth as he melts into his kiss. Edward’s lips are soft and warm and gentle. Edward tastes like love and coffee and laughter and... _ home _ . 

_ God, I really have been blind _ , Alfred thinks as he wraps his arms gently around Edward’s waist.  _ How the  _ hell  _ has this taken me so long?  _

They break apart without moving away from each other, Edward’s hands still cradling Alfred’s face, their foreheads still pressed together. 

“I love you too, by the way,” Alfred murmurs. He opens his eyes and grins as he sees that Edward still has his eyes closed, the soft smile still on his face, looking happier than Alfred has ever seen him. “In case that wasn’t clear.” 

“Since when?” Edward asks.

“What?” Alfred asks. 

Edward opens his eyes. 

“Since when have  _ you  _ been in love with  _ me _ ?” he asks. Alfred can see his grin, the teasing glint in his eyes, but he can also hear the genuine curiosity underneath. 

“Oh. Well...since forever, I guess,” Alfred confesses with a small shrug. 

“Wait, what?” Edward asks bemusedly. 

“I don’t remember ever  _ not  _ being in love with you,” Alfred clarifies. “I just didn’t actually  _ realise  _ until recently, when…” He winces slightly, remembering everything Florence had said, realising that Edward probably has no idea. But that’s not really his secret to tell, he decides. 

“I’m an idiot,” he tells Edward. “But you knew that already.” Edward huffs out a short laugh. “As it turns out, loving you is like breathing,” he whispers, raising his hands to cup Edward’s face gently in return. “It comes to me so naturally, I didn’t even realise I was doing it. But I love you  _ so  _ much, Edward. And I need you.” 

Edward beams at him, so widely that it looks as though his cheeks must be aching. Alfred strokes his thumb gently over Edward’s dimples, as Edward leans in to kiss him again, softly and sweetly. 

The two of them press their foreheads together, entwined as they breathe each other in. 

* * *

_ Next Morning _

Alfred was  _ very  _ tempted not to come in to work today. 

And no, it’s not  _ just  _ because he woke up with his head resting against Edward’s bare chest, Edward’s arms wrapped tightly around him as though he never wanted to let him go, the bedsheets twisted and tangled around them. It’s not  _ just  _ because he could have happily lounged around in bed with Edward all day, trading slow, lazy kisses, giggling against his mouth as the sunlight began to spill through the curtains. 

It’s not just because he’s a little sleep-deprived right now, or because his body is aching in the most delicious of ways - though he certainly feels pretty dumb right now for ever having assumed that Edward was uncomfortable with sex. If he’s honest, he can’t remember ever feeling so satisfied as he had done this morning, waking up in Edward’s arms.

All of that is a large part of the reason he was sorely tempted not to come in to work, it’s true. But there’s also the fact that somewhere at the back of his mind, in the tiny guilty part of his brain that still seems to be functioning without being flooded with giddy butterflies and hearts, he knew that if he came to the cafe, he would have to face Florence. And he really has no clue how he’s going to break  _ this _ news to her. The prospect of having to hurt her seems inevitable to Alfred at this point, no matter how much he keeps trying to avoid it. 

In fact, he’s not sure he would have come in at all, if Edward hadn’t made him. He doesn’t know that Alfred’s feeling so awkward about seeing Florence, of course - it’s Florence’s secret to explain when she wants to, and Alfred has a feeling she won’t be wanting to explain it to him any time soon. 

But Edward had certainly been shocked when Alfred had let slip this morning how much work he’d missed recently.    
“You didn’t go in for a  _ week? _ ” he’d yelped, staring down at Alfred.

“I said  _ almost  _ a week,” Alfred had protested, pouting slightly because in his shock, Edward had stopped stroking his hair for a moment.

“But  _ why?”  _

“Well, I wasn’t feeling great,” Alfred had muttered. Edward had raised an eyebrow at this, and Alfred had shrugged, curling up into him, nuzzling his face against Edward’s chest.

“I told you, I fucking missed you, Edward. When I said I need you - well, I meant it.” 

Edward had flushed scarlet at that, and Alfred had taken the opportunity to lean forwards and kiss him senseless - but Edward had leaned back after a few moments, trying his best to look stern despite the giddy grin on his face. 

“Don’t think you can distract me with flattery, Alf. If you’ve already missed almost a week of work, then you certainly can’t bail again today. Come on, up - let’s get dressed. You’ll be running late if you don’t get a move on!”

Alfred had whined at him and tried his best puppy eyes, but Edward, apparently, wasn’t budging.

“Will you -”

“Of course I’ll come with you, Alf,” Edward had huffed at him in mock exasperation. “Did you really think I’d be staying away from you today? I only just got back - you won’t be able to get rid of me again  _ that  _ easily!”

The ensuing make-out session had set them back a few more minutes, making the morning even more of a rush. Edward had at least agreed to make Alfred pancakes before they headed out, but then Alfred had tried to help him in the kitchen and there had been a slight maple syrup spillage, which had led to  _ another  _ delay, albeit a very enjoyable one…

So, Alfred may have been late enough to earn a death glare from Victoria, but he’s still at work, against his better judgement. At least he has Edward in tow this time - but seeing the look on Florence’s face when she’d caught sight of Edward certainly hadn’t helped matters.

God, Alfred has never felt happier in his  _ life  _ than he does this morning - except for this, this gnawing sense of guilt he feels whenever Florence looks over at the two of them, like one stubborn stain on a shirt that’s otherwise perfect. Edward had warmly greeted her as he sat down in his usual seat at the counter, but he’s also been shooting Alfred secret little smiles from behind his laptop for the last fifteen minutes, making his skin tingle with warmth as he remembers the night before. Which is really  _ not  _ helpful right now. 

Alfred sighs. He’s going to have to do it. He’s just going to have to rip off the plaster. 

“Hey, um, Flo?” he asks awkwardly, as she wipes the counter down. “Could I please have a quick word with you? In private?” 

She hesitates for a moment. 

“Okay,” she says quietly, without meeting his eyes. The twisting feeling of guilt in Alfred’s chest increases - he can’t help but notice that she hardly sounds thrilled at the prospect. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs. 

Edward looks up from his laptop, tilting his head inquisitively and shooting him a puzzled glance.  _ Later _ , Alfred mouths. He looks back at Florence and gestures towards the storeroom at the back; she follows him tentatively.

Alfred waits until Edward is out of earshot before speaking, though they’re not actually out of his sight yet. 

“There’s just something I need to tell you,” he murmurs as they walk, already cringing inwardly. “And I apologise in advance because I really don’t think you’re going to like it, which is why I thought it might be best to tell you privately -”

“You’re going to tell me that you and Edward are together now, aren’t you?” 

Alfred freezes in his tracks. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Slowly, he turns around to face her. Florence’s voice sounded remarkably calm and steady when she’d said it, and her tone had made it sound like she already knew the answer. She looks like she’s trying her best to keep her expression neutral. 

“How....how did you know that?” he asks awkwardly.

Florence gives a little shrug, still not quite meeting his eyes. 

“Well, from the way you reacted when I explained that I had feelings for him, I...I sort of guessed that you had feelings for him too,” she explains quietly. “You didn’t exactly seem thrilled.” 

Alfred winces. 

“God, Flo, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“It’s fine, Alfred,” she says quickly, cutting him off. “It’s hardly your fault that you have feelings for him. I don’t blame you.” 

He hesitates awkwardly, not really knowing what to say in response to that. He has a feeling it’s not really true that it’s ‘fine’ with Florence - she’s probably sugarcoating to try and spare him from feeling guilty. 

“Also, I realised that Edward is into you, not me, the moment I saw him walk in with you just now,” she continues uncomfortably. “He did send me a text yesterday telling me he was coming back to Highbury and he was looking forward to seeing me - but he was just being polite and kind and sweet, like always. I mean, it’s not like he actually came to see me - as soon as he got back, I’m assuming he went straight home to see you?” Alfred nods tentatively. 

“Evidently  _ you’re  _ Edward’s first priority, not me,” Florence says, looking at him and trying to paste a smile on. 

He squirms a little, trying not to look too gleeful. 

“Plus,” she adds bluntly, “he’s staring at you right now, with the most ridiculously lovestruck expression I have ever seen in my life.”

Alfred feels himself blushing scarlet. He glances over his shoulder, feeling his heart swelling in his chest. Edward is indeed doing just that, though he grins sheepishly and ducks adorably behind his laptop when he catches Alfred looking back at him. 

“Flo, I’m...I’m really sorry,” he says awkwardly. “I really never meant to hurt you, I just...well, I love him.” 

“And he loves you,” she responds quietly.

He flushes again.

“Well...yeah,” he answers, trying and failing to stop himself from grinning as his heart swells with happiness again at the reminder. 

Despite herself, Florence smiles a little at the look on his face. 

“I know you never meant to hurt me, Alfred,” she tells him. “And you have absolutely nothing to apologise for - I know you can’t control who you fall in love with. Plus, you’re my best friend in the world, and...and I’ve literally never seen you looking this happy. I mean, obviously it’s kind of crappy for me, and I feel pretty silly right now, but I would  _ never  _ want to begrudge you this much happiness. Of course I want Edward to be happy too, but…” she shrugs, with a sad little smile. “If it’s not going to be with me, then I’m glad he’s going to be happy with you. He’s very lucky to have somebody as kind and caring as you. Somebody who loves him, and knows him better than anyone else in the world.” 

Alfred stares at her. Once again, he finds himself overwhelmed at Florence’s generosity and forgiveness. 

“Flo, I...thank you,” he says quietly. “Seriously, you’re the best friend I could ever ask for. I have no clue what I ever did to deserve you.” 

She huffs, grinning and rolling her eyes a little to shake off his praise. He grins back at her, but after a moment her smile fades and she looks at him with a solemn expression. 

“Please don’t tell Edward what I told you,” she says, her eyes serious. “I just...I know he wouldn’t laugh at me or anything like that, because he’s Edward, but...I just don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable or awkward or guilty, or to think that he accidentally led me on, or anything like that.”

Alfred shakes his head.

“I won’t tell him,” he murmurs. “I promise.” 

Tentatively, he holds out his little finger for a pinky swear, like he used to do with his siblings and Cecilia when he was a kid. Florence looks a little taken aback, letting out a surprised huff of laughter, but she plays along anyway, wrapping her pinky around his. 

“Can I ask you something, though?” Florence asks suddenly. 

“Yeah, of course - what is it?” he asks curiously. 

“How come you hadn’t already asked Edward out ages ago, if you had feelings for him? Or why didn’t you at least mention it to me, or tell me I needed to piss off and go and find somebody else?” 

“Oh, um…” Alfred flushes yet again, shuffling his feet a little. He  _ really  _ feels like a moron now. “Well, firstly, I would never have told you to ‘piss off’. And secondly...well, I didn’t actually have a clue that I was completely in love with Edward. Until  _ you  _ told me you had feelings for him, that is.” 

“Wait... _ what _ ?” Florence exclaims, laughing a little now despite herself. “You didn’t  _ know _ ? How could you not know you were in love with your best friend?” 

Alfred shrugs, grinning a little sheepishly. 

“I just...I’ve been in love with him as long as I’ve known him, basically. It wasn’t until you described it that I was like - wait, that’s how  _ I _ feel about him. That’s how I’ve felt for five  _ fucking years _ . I don’t really know what it feels like to  _ not  _ be in love with him.” He pauses awkwardly. “Does that make sense?”

“I mean...I guess so?” Florence answers uncertainly.

“I’m an idiot, I know,” he says quickly.

“Don’t be silly, Alfred, you’re not an  _ idiot _ -”

“No, I am,” he insists. “I really, really am.” 

She lets out an awkward giggle, and he grins at her. 

“Thank you for being so understanding, Flo,” he says quietly, his grin fading. “I understand that this whole thing must be weird and uncomfortable and a bit painful.”

She grimaces slightly. 

“But I promise, there will be absolutely no PDAs from either of us in front of you,” he says fervently. “I don’t want to make this any harder for you than it has to be.”

Florence goes silent for a moment, before smiling at him sadly again. 

“Don’t worry about me, Alfred,” she says sincerely. “You love him, and he loves you, and you should both feel free to let each other know in any way you can.”

“Are...are you sure?” Alfred asks, taken aback once again by her kindness.

She nods.

“Yeah. I’ll get over him. Just give me a little time.” 

“Sounds good,” he says, smiling tentatively at her. “Oh, and Flo?”

“Yeah?”

“From now on - you don’t have to listen to a word of my ‘advice,’especially about your love life. Honestly, I have no clue what I’m talking about or what’s going on most of the time - as I’m sure Edward would tell you.”

She laughs again. 

“Just...ignore me and my idiocy. Talk to whoever you want to talk to. Date whoever you want to date.”

“You mean that I should try to appreciate everything around me?” Florence asks slowly.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Okay,” she says with a small grin, looking far more relaxed than she had done ten minutes ago. “Sounds like a plan.”

He grins back at her, before gesturing towards the counter with his head.

“We should probably get back to work before Vic murders us both.”

“Fair point,” she grins, and follows him back. 

“What was that about?” Edward murmurs, as Alfred comes closer to him on the pretext of reorganising the display cabinet. 

Alfred hesitates, remembering the promise he’d just made.

“I was just...explaining the news to Flo,” he says tentatively. “About us, I mean.”

He’s allowed to tell Edward that part, presumably. 

“Oh,” Edward says, looking a little taken aback. “She’s okay with it, right? I mean, I know the three of us are all friends, but like...you let her know that we’ll do our best not to make her feel awkward or excluded or...third wheel-y, right?” 

“Yeah,” Alfred answers hesitantly, thinking that he probably shouldn’t let him get any closer to the truth of Florence’s feelings. “And I promised her we wouldn’t be obnoxious with PDAs or anything like that.”

“Wait, what?” Edward exclaims. “You mean I’m not allowed to kiss you in public? But...but that’s not fair, I didn’t even get a say in that! I was literally just about to kiss you, right now!” 

“Right now?” Alfred asks, grinning.

“Well, I haven’t kissed you in like, half an hour!” Edward complains, pouting.

Alfred rolls his eyes at him, trying not to make it obvious that his heart is currently melting,  _ again _ . He has  _ some  _ pride, after all. 

He glances quickly over his shoulder - seeing that Florence is determinedly occupied with the coffee machine at the moment, her back to them, he swiftly leans in and kisses Edward’s pout away, grinning as he feels his lips curving into a smile. 

The two of them break apart quickly as the bell over the door tinkles to announce the arrival of a new customer. Alfred could have happily kept kissing Edward, but he has to admit that it’s not particularly professional of him to spend the morning making out with his boyfriend - his  _ boyfriend!  _ \- over the counter while there are other people waiting to be served. 

The three of them glance over towards the door to see who the new arrival is. Alfred feels a grin spreading over his face at the sight of Mina Coke standing there. She tucks her blonde hair awkwardly behind her ear - just as Florence tends to do, making Alfred wonder if that’s where Florence picked up the habit. 

Walking up to the counter, Mina smiles nervously at Florence.

“Hi, Florence.” 

Florence looks a little dumbstruck at the sight of her. Mina hasn’t really hung around the cafe like she used to in months - plus, Alfred realises suddenly, in the wake of all the revelations, he’d completely forgotten to tell Flo that he’d apologised to Mina for his behaviour and she’d forgiven him, not to mention the fact that he’d also encouraged her not to give up on Florence. 

To be fair, though, Mina does look unusually pretty today, wearing an adorable yellow blouse and a red full-length skirt patterned with birds - evidently she’s decided to make an extra effort for Florence. That might also be part of the reason that Florence currently looks like she’s struggling to form words.

“Morning, Mina,” Alfred greets her brightly. 

“Morning, Alfred,” she responds, turning to smile at him. 

Given the last time she had seen the two of them together, Florence looks even more stunned at the casual friendliness between them now. Alfred bites back a grin at the expression on her face.

“Unfortunately I’m a little busy at the moment - but you won’t mind if this lovely lady here serves you, will you, Mina?” Alfred asks innocently, gesturing towards Florence.

Mina grins, flushing a little. 

“No, I won’t mind at all,” she answers.

“Excellent!” he replies. “Well, I’ll leave you to do the honours then, shall I, Flo?” 

Florence still looks a little dazed, but when Mina smiles at her and moves a little closer to the counter, she immediately smiles back, as though she can’t help herself.

“Shuffle that way a bit, please,” Alfred mutters to Edward in an undertone, gesturing at him to move a little further away from Florence and Mina so that they’re both out of earshot and won’t be able to hear their conversation. 

Edward looks bewildered, but does as he’s told, Alfred following him so that he’s a bit further from the girls too.

“What was that about?” Edward mutters. “You are not ‘busy,’ why did you just tell Mina you were too busy to take her order?”

“Oh, I just thought I might give them a bit of space to chat, that’s all,” Alfred replies, with an airy grin.

The two of them pause to glance over at the women. Mina is leaning in towards Florence as she talks, her elbows on the counter, smiling and looking at Florence like she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Florence is laughing, presumably at something Mina has just said, blushing a little, looking at Mina as though she’s drinking her in. 

Edward looks at Alfred, frowning slightly. 

“Alf...” he says suspiciously. “What are you plotting this time?” 

“What? Nothing!” Alfred exclaims suspiciously. Edward raises an eyebrow sceptically. “No, genuinely, Edward, I’m not plotting anything,” he clarifies. “I promise. I have better ways to spend my time now, anyway,” he adds, his gaze pointedly roaming over Edward’s body from head to toe. 

Edward flushes scarlet from the look Alfred is giving him, and Alfred can’t help but smirk just a little - it seems he’s successfully distracted Edward from his suspicion, anyway. Edward leans in over the counter and Alfred eagerly leans towards him too - but before he can reach Edward’s lips, the bell over the door tinkles again. Alfred sighs - really, is it too much to ask that he be allowed to make out with the love of his life in the middle of his workplace, without being interrupted by stupid customers every two minutes?

Both of them turn towards the door, and Alfred grins, feeling his irritation instantly fade away. 

As it turns out, the newcomers are none other than Will Peel and James Grey - and Alfred is guessing that they’ve managed to sort themselves out at least a little, judging by the way they’ve walked into the cafe together with their hands entwined. 

“Well, well, well,” Alfred crows gleefully, as the two of them walk over towards the counter. “Look who’s back! Fancy seeing  _ you _ two here!”

“Oh, shut up, Alfred,” Will shoots back, rolling his eyes even as he grins back at him. 

“Welcome back, James,” Edward says with an easy smile, shaking his hand. 

“Thanks, Edward,” James responds quietly, smiling back at him. 

Edward hesitates slightly as he looks at Will.

“Will,” he says, inclining his head towards him a little and attempting another smile, though he doesn’t quite muster it this time. At least he acknowledged him, Alfred supposes. That’s probably as much as can be hoped for right now. 

“Well, it’s  _ lovely  _ to see you too, Drums,” Will responds with a grin. 

“Will,” James mutters, elbowing him gently in the chest.

“Okay, okay, I’m playing nice, I swear!” Will exclaims. James grins a little despite himself. 

“So, what can I get you two dorks?” Alfred asks, still grinning. 

“Just a black coffee for me thanks, Alfred,” James says quietly.

“Same,” Will adds. 

“Pftt, like you’ll actually drink that,” James says, rolling his eyes.

“What? I will!” Will protests. 

“No you won’t, you just want to look more sophisticated than you actually are,” James counters with a small smirk. “It’s not nearly sweet enough for you.” He turns back to Alfred. “Will here will have a white chocolate latte, please.” 

Alfred bites back a laugh at the indignant expression on Will’s face, which drops a moment later as he turns back to Alfred too, giving in with a sigh.

“He’s right. As always. White chocolate latte, please.” 

“Coming right up,” Alfred replies, grinning as he turns to the coffee machine.

“Here we are,” he announces, only a few minutes later, turning back to the two of them and sliding their drinks across the counter. “One black coffee for the mature and sophisticated adult, and one white chocolate latte for...the other one.”

“Thanks, Alfred,” James replies, offering up an awkward smile. Alfred feels a familiar little twinge of guilt - he supposes it’s entirely warranted for James not to feel all that comfortable around him, even now. 

“Hey, James, why don’t you come sit next to me and update me on what you’ve been up to in London?” Edward asks hastily, evidently sensing the tension between them and deciding to intervene.

“Sure,” James responds with a smile. He turns to Will.

“I’ll just be over here for a bit,” he murmurs, gesturing towards Edward. “Think you can manage without me for five minutes?”

“I mean...I can try,” Will replies, with a small pout. “No promises, though.” 

James looks up at him with a small smile and Will looks back at him, his expression softer than Alfred has ever seen it. James leans in towards him slightly, as if by instinct, and Will ducks down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Alfred glances away - the moment between them seems so intimate that he almost feels like he’s intruding. 

James gives Will another little smile, before taking his coffee and moving a little further away to sit down next to Edward. 

Will, still with a dazed little smile on his face, turns back to the counter, only to see Alfred looking at him with a shit-eating grin. 

_ “‘James Grey? Oh, well, I don’t know him that well, but he seems pretty boring,”  _ Alfred teases him.  _ “Not my cup of tea, bit of a goody two-shoes, really. He’s overrated - oh Alfred, I’d much rather hang out with you!’” _

“Well...yeah, I was kind of lying when I said all that,” Will confesses, shrugging a little, though he doesn’t look particularly abashed.

“I mean, I’d figured that much out for myself, funnily enough,” Alfred answers, rolling his eyes a little as he grins. Another memory comes to him. “Oh! And you told me you had no clue who’d sent him the guitar, either!”

“Yeah...I did say that, didn’t I?” Will agrees. He’s starting to look a little sheepish now. “What can I say? I’m sorry for fibbing, Alfred. But we’d decided that while we were in Highbury we were going to be top secret. Jamie was worried about his aunt’s reaction, and I had to be careful because...well, I didn’t really want my dad to know that I’m into boys.” 

Alfred raises one eyebrow, looking at him pointedly and silently. Will seems to immediately know what he’s getting at.

“Well...look, I didn’t say I was  _ good  _ at being in a secret relationship!” he protests. “I mean, I’d barely ever even been in a  _ relationship  _ before James! And then he reminded me that while we were in Highbury we had to act as though we didn’t know each other that well and pretend we were both still single and....well, I guess I got a bit carried away. It’s not  _ my  _ fault I’m a massive flirt, Alfred, I was just born like this! In my defense - I do genuinely enjoy hanging out with you. And incidentally, you  _ are  _ very pretty.” 

“Why, thank you,” Alfred replies, grinning. “I could say much the same thing about you.” 

Will grins back, sweeping him an exaggerated little bow.

“Plus, if I’m honest - it was just a little bit fun messing with people,” he adds.

“Of course it was,” Alfred sighs, rolling his eyes. He pauses, pondering Will with his head tilted to the side. 

“You’re in love with him, though.” 

Will flushes. 

“I mean...yeah. I am. Have been for a pretty long time, in fact. And I completely understood why he dumped me, I was behaving  _ terribly  _ while trying to throw people off-track about us - again, sorry. But I...I knew I had to  _ try  _ to get him back, I  _ can’t  _ be without him. He was really angry at me, but - well, as you can see, he finally decided to give me a second chance, thank fuck. Apparently he doesn’t really want to be without me, either.” Will flushes an even deeper scarlet as he says the words, shrugging and laughing a little as though it’s not such a big deal, as though he’s afraid to show Alfred just how soft James makes him. “I know I don’t deserve him; probably never will, either. But I’m ready to start making up for my mistakes. And, well...I’m willing to spend the rest of my life - or the foreseeable future, at least - trying to make him happy, and trying to be worthy of him.”

“Wow,” Alfred says after a pause. Will ducks his head a little. 

God, he really is just a massive lovestruck sap underneath all the flirting and bravado, isn’t he? 

“So, you definitely  _ weren’t _ into me, then?” Alfred asks jokingly, with a dramatic sigh, taking pity on Will in his embarrassment and trying to steer the conversation to something a little less intense. 

Will grins.

“I’m very sorry, Alfred - but it would never have worked out between us, darling,” he replies, in a tone of mock solemnity.

“You know, I think you may actually have a point there,” Alfred answers more seriously. “I’m not entirely convinced that the two of us are the best influence on each other.” 

He grimaces slightly, remembering the disastrous evening at Box Hill Restaurant - judging by Will’s own grimace, he’s remembering the same thing.

“Yeah, well...okay, fair point,” he mutters. “Guess it’s lucky we were never actually into each other then, right?”

“Guess so,” Alfred agrees with a grin.

The two of them lapse into a comfortable silence for a moment, Will sipping his latte. 

“So,” Alfred asks tentatively, “have you made up with your dad, then? Is that why you two have come back to Highbury?” 

Will shrugs a little. 

“Well...kind of. I finally answered his call yesterday - though I’m sure Emma already told you that. Apparently he’s been feeling guilty for making me feel like I had to hide my relationship - he told me it might still take him a little while to process, but he’s really really sorry for making me feel that way. And when I went to London, James was obviously my priority, but when I managed to get him back...well, I realised it probably wasn’t great to leave things like that with my dad, given that he’d been trying so hard to get through to me. And James wanted to speak to his aunt as well, now the news was out, because he knew she’d be freaking out. So yeah, we’re back, and we’re open now, obviously - which is a fucking relief, I can tell you. I’m back to introduce Jamie to my dad, as my boyfriend. I figure there’s no point hiding now that he knows the truth. I’m offering an olive branch - Dad can take it or leave it as he likes. At least I’ll know I tried, and I was honest. Jamie and I are only going to be hanging around Highbury for a few days, anyway.”    
“Oh? Are you guys heading back to London, then?” Alfred asks.

“Just briefly, to pack,” Will replies.

“Wait - pack?” 

He nods, grinning.

“Remember I told you my boss offered me some photography and travel writing work in Australia?” 

“Yeah…” Alfred answers, frowning a little. “I thought you said you were going to turn it down because you would miss people back ho...oh,” he cuts himself off, feeling even stupider that he’s only just realised now what Will had really been saying. “You meant you would miss James too much.” 

“Well, yeah, he didn’t think his boss would let him go overseas,” Will says with a shrug. “Plus, we were already on the rocks a bit when I told you that, so I think he was a bit more reluctant to risk annoying his boss for my sake. But now we’re making a go of things again, and Jamie has asked permission - and his boss  _ adores  _ him, of fucking course, goody two-shoes that he is, so she’s allowing him to take a few months leave to travel. We’re gonna start in Melbourne, then go down to Adelaide and catch the train that will take us all the way across the Nullaboor Plain, and then we’re going to circle back to Queensland and go snorkelling on the Great Barrier Reef - well,  _ I’m  _ going to snorkel, at least. Jamie might take a bit of convincing; but I’m up for the challenge.”

Alfred can’t help but grin - he’s never seen Will’s face lit up with this, almost giddy with excitement at the prospect of having new adventures, with the love of his life for company. 

“So, everything’s coming up rosy for Will Peel right now?” he asks.

“Well...yeah, it kind of feels like it,” Will admits. “I can’t really believe my luck, to be honest - though I know I don’t deserve it.”

“I’m  _ so  _ happy for you, Will,” Alfred says - and he means it. “I wish you all the luck in the world.”

“Thanks,” Will replies, grinning at him. “Oh, and congrats to you on  _ finally  _ scoring with Drummond, by the way,” he adds casually, as though it’s just an afterthought.

“What?!” Alfred splutters. “I never said...how the hell did you  _ know _ …?”

“Alfred, please,” Will answers, as though Alfred has just insulted his intelligence. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice the ridiculously soppy way you two have been staring at each other? See, look, he’s doing it literally right now!”

Alfred flushes. He doesn’t need to look round at Edward to know that Will is telling the truth.

“ _ You’re  _ one to talk about ridiculously soppy….” he mutters. 

“Plus, I’ve never seen you looking this happy. You’re practically  _ glowing _ , Alfred. Both of you are. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you two dorks spent the whole night boning.” 

Alfred flushes even more, feeling his face burning. 

“And about fucking time, too,” Will adds, smirking and clearly enjoying Alfred’s embarrassment immensely. Alfred supposes he considers it payback. “Jamie and I had started taking bets on when you two were  _ finally _ going to get over yourselves and figure out that you’re both head over heels for each other.” 

“Wait - what? You  _ knew _ ?” Alfred exclaims. “Who else knew I was in love with Edward?”

“Oh, don’t worry. Only most of the people in this town,” Will clarifies with a grin.

“ _ What _ ?” he splutters. Surely, he and Edward can’t have been the last people to know about this? “Don’t be stupid, Will, other people didn’t  _ know  _ -”

“Yeah, we did,” Victoria pipes up casually as she carries a pile of plates behind the counter, evidently eavesdropping. 

Alfred stares at her, starting to feel irrationally irritated now, because why had nobody bothered to  _ tell  _ him this? Will laughs at the look on his face. 

“Seriously, though,” he says. “Congrats, Alfred. Looks like maybe we’ve  _ both  _ lucked out and found men who are too good for us.” 

“Hey!” Alfred replies indignantly. “Speak for yourself!”

“Okay, fine,” Will says, with a shrug and a mischievous grin. “James is too good for  _ me _ , at least. But you’re right, Edward isn’t too good for you. You’re a better person than I am.” 

Alfred hesitates, looking over at Edward chatting with James, glowing with happiness and looking more content than Alfred has ever seen him. Feeling Alfred’s gaze, Edward looks over, giving him a soft smile when he catches him looking, and Alfred feels his heart give an insistent thump in his chest. 

“Okay, fine, you’re right,” he says to Will. He knows he’s grinning like a lovestruck idiot right now, but he can’t help it. “He  _ is  _ too good for me. But, to be fair to me, Edward is too good for literally everyone.” 

“ _ Whipped _ ,” Will announces, his smirk widening.

Alfred rolls his eyes, even as he blushes. He’s not going to  _ deny _ it; Will knows as well as he does, it seems, that that would be a straight up lie. 

“Um, kettle, have you met my friend pot?” he fires back at Will. Will rolls his eyes, too, grinning back at him. 

“Well, okay, yeah, you got me there,” he concedes. Alfred huffs out a laugh.

Their conversation is interrupted by James, who stands up and walks over to Will, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder to get his attention. 

“Hey, we should probably be heading over to your dad’s, right?” he says quietly. “We’re due there in about half an hour.” 

Will groans a little, pulling a face, but his expression clears immediately when James leans down to press a soft kiss to the top of his head. 

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” he says, standing up slowly and stretching out his long limbs. 

“Will was just telling me that you two are off on a massive adventure in a few weeks,” Alfred says, smiling at James a little awkwardly, determined to try and make up for his previous behaviour towards him. “It all sounds so exciting!”

“It is,” says James, smiling at Will. “It really is.” 

He hesitates for a moment, before looking at Alfred. 

“Alfred…” he says tentatively. “I’m sorry if...you know...I seemed a little....” 

“No apology needed at all,” Alfred answers, cutting him off hastily. “If anything,  _ I’m  _ the one who needs to apologise. I was just being a bit of an oblivious asshole, frankly.” 

James cracks a reluctant grin. 

“How about we’re  _ both  _ sorry, and we both agree to put any stupid and immature jealousy or judginess behind us?” 

He holds out his hand to Alfred.

“Sounds good to me,” Alfred says with a grin, feeling distinctly less awkward as he moves forward to shake it. 

“Well, it was lovely to see you, James,” Edward pipes up, standing too so he can bid them farewell. “Take care - keep us posted on the adventures!”

“Will do,” James replies, smiling at him. 

“And Will…” Edward turns to him and, to Alfred’s surprise, reluctantly holds out his hand. “Best of luck with it all.”

Will’s grin looks as surprised as Alfred feels as he shakes Edward’s hand.

“Thanks, Drums,” he replies. “You mean with the travelling, or with holding onto a guy as wonderful as Jamie without fucking it up?” 

Edward huffs out a reluctant laugh.

“Well...you said it, not me,” he answers with a grin. 

“Thanks - I’ll miss you desperately, too,” Will says sardonically. “Take care of Alfred here, won’t you? Keep him happy?” 

Edward looks over at Alfred with another soft, dazed smile that makes his heart melt all over again. 

“I’ll do my best.”

“Then again, judging by the look on his face when I came in, I’m guessing you already did a pretty good job of keeping him happy last night, eh?” Will adds with a wink, as though he literally couldn’t resist the opportunity to torment Edward for another second. 

Predictably, Edward immediately turns a bright, boiling scarlet, the smile falling from his face. He glances at Alfred in panic, as though worried he’s been discussing the intricacies of exactly what they’ve been getting up to. Alfred shrugs helplessly back at him. 

“ _ Okay,  _ and I think that’s probably our cue to get going,” James says hastily, grabbing Will’s spare hand as though determined to pull him away from any more trouble of his own making. “Come  _ on _ , slowcoach, we’ll be late for your dad!”

“Spoilsport,” Will grumbles, but he obediently pulls his coat on, swatting James’s hand away when he tries to pay and tapping his own card against the reader. 

“Well, have an incredible adventure,” Alfred says to him, as Will intertwines his fingers with James’s. “And I wish you all the luck in the world, Will Peel. With your dad, and with everything else.” 

Will grins at him, looking genuinely excited to explore and see what the future holds.

“See you around then, Alfred Paget,” he says. “Friends?” 

Alfred nods, grinning back at him.

“Friends.” 

* * *

“I never thought I would see the day when I was making fun of  _ Will Peel  _ for being sappy,” Alfred muses to Edward later that evening. 

The two of them are lying lazily on the sofa in their living room, Alfred with his head resting against Edward’s chest as Edward wraps his arms around him. 

“Mm,” Edward responds noncommittally, evidently more interested in breathing in the scent of Alfred’s hair. 

They should probably be making a start on dinner at some point soon, Alfred thinks vaguely. But as it turns out, once they’ve started cuddling, it’s sort of difficult to stop. Given that Edward hasn’t yet mentioned dinner, even though he’s usually the practical one, Alfred imagines he’s probably thinking along the same lines. The thought makes his heart flutter giddily in his chest. 

“I don’t even know now why I was so shocked at the idea of him and James,” Alfred continues. “I mean, now that I’ve seen how they are - they’re kind of cute together, don’t you think?”

Edward grimaces a little. 

“I’m glad that James is happy,” he answers, in a tone that makes it crystal clear he thinks James’s taste in men leaves a lot to be desired. “But I still don’t like Will.”

“ _ Really? _ ” Alfred asks, twisting around to grin at him. “You  _ amaze  _ me!” 

Edward rolls his eyes at him, and Alfred settles back against his chest, sniggering a little. 

“You know, Will told me he feels incredibly lucky, because he knows James is too good for him,” Alfred continues casually.

“What, really?” Edward asks, sounding genuinely taken aback by Will’s self-deprecation. Alfred nods, dislodging Edward’s chin, which was resting lightly on top of his head. 

“Huh. Well, I guess there’s at least one thing Will and I have in common, then. James  _ is  _ too good for him,” Edward agrees. 

“He said that he and I are  _ both  _ with men who are too good for us,” Alfred adds, grinning.

“He said  _ what? _ ” Edward asks, lifting his head properly to stare at him. Alfred feels his heart melting yet again at the expression of outrage on his boyfriend’s face. “How  _ dare  _ he! Firstly, it’s none of his business, and secondly, I am  _ not  _ too good for you - you’re amazing, Alf. I thought he was at least intelligent enough to know  _ that!”  _

“Actually, I told him he was right - you  _ are  _ too good for me,” Alfred counters, before he gets carried away with his desire to kiss Edward senseless. 

“What?!” Edward says, frowning at him. “Why’d you tell him that?” 

“Well, I mean….I  _ have  _ caused a lot of trouble over the past few months. Because I’m an idiot. I think we both know that.” 

“Well...okay, yeah,” Edward agrees reluctantly, with a huff of laughter. 

“But I also told him that, in my defence,  _ nobody  _ is good enough for you, because you’re Edward Drummond.” 

Edward flushes scarlet at that. He opens his mouth and closes it a few times, as though he’s trying to remember how to form words. Alfred can’t help but grin - the expression on his face is almost too adorable. 

“Bet Will loved hearing that,” he says eventually.

“He told me I’m whipped,” Alfred replies. “Couldn’t really argue with that one.” 

Edward smiles at him softly, blinking rapidly as though he’s trying to hold back tears. He ducks his head to hide his blush, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Alfred’s head. 

“Oh, also, I think Flo was a bit confused,” Alfred muses, settling back against Edward’s chest. 

“Confused?” he echoes.

“When I tried to explain that I’ve been in love with you for years, but I’ve only just noticed,” Alfred clarifies. 

“I mean...that  _ does  _ sound a little strange, Alf, you have to admit,” Edward teases him. 

Alfred shrugs.

“Well, as it turns out, I haven’t really noticed or understood most of the things happening around me,” he says, rolling his eyes at his own idiocy. “But I told you - loving you is basically like breathing at this point. I don’t really notice myself breathing, either. I mean,” he continues, taking Edward’s hand and gently twining their fingers together, “I’ve always trusted you  _ so  _ much, and been more comfortable around you than I am with anybody else. So in a way, not all that much has changed, really, except…”

“Except for the fact that I can  _ finally  _ be open and tell you how much I love you now?” Edward murmurs, smiling down at him. 

Alfred turns around to grin at him. 

“Love you more.” 

“Do not!” Edward protests, leaning closer. 

Rolling his eyes, Alfred leans in too, closing the distance between them and effectively putting a stop to the argument by pressing a kiss to Edward’s lips. He grins as he feels the curve of Edward’s smile against his mouth.

“Do too,” he says stubbornly, breaking away after a few moments and settling back against his boyfriend’s chest. 

Edward rolls his eyes, even as he tightens his arms around him and presses another kiss to the top of his head. 

“What about pet names?” Alfred muses after a moment, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “Should there be pet names?” 

Edward furrows his brow a little.

“I mean, I guess…”

“Can I call you ‘Eddie’?” Alfred asks innocently.

“Don’t you dare,” Edward responds immediately, glaring at him, and Alfred sniggers; he  _ knew  _ Alex must have been pissing Edward off no end, even if Edward was too polite to ever actually object. 

At that moment, Alfred’s phone buzzes, lighting up with a new text. Lazily, he reaches out to grab it from the coffee table next to them.

Scanning the text quickly, Alfred gasps dramatically, raising a hand to his mouth.

“What?” Edward asks, sounding alarmed - but his frown quickly drops when Alfred lowers his hand, and he catches sight of the huge grin on his face. 

“Good news, then?”

“It’s from Flo,” he explains, beaming at Edward. “Apparently she just asked  _ Mina  _ out - and Mina said yes! They’re going on a date this Saturday!” 

Edward grins as Alfred shows him the text. 

“About bloody time,” he says.

Alfred nods fervently, feeling relief and happiness coursing through him as the last traces of his guilt over Florence fade away. 

“You certainly look happy about it,” Edward comments with a surprised smile, looking a little taken aback at Alfred’s enthusiasm. 

“Oh, I am, I am!” Alfred exclaims gleefully.

“I hope Flo will be happy,” Edward muses, stroking Alfred’s hair absentmindedly. 

“Oh, I’m sure she will be,” Alfred responds. He grins at his boyfriend, his cheeks aching with his smile, feeling lighter and happier than he can ever remember being before. “But then, that’s between her and Mina. It’s certainly none of  _ my  _ business.” 

Beaming, his dark eyes alight with happiness, Edward leans in to kiss him again.

Alfred grins against his mouth.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did promise a happy ending in true Austenian fashion!
> 
> Thank you so very much to everyone who's been reading this and commenting - I hope you enjoyed reading about these two idiots and all their romantic mishaps as much as I enjoyed writing them!
> 
> I think by now I've probably given these two lovestruck dorks enough time in the spotlight, what with three fics dedicated to them (not to mention a Hogwarts Christmas fic XD).   
> I do have some plans to bring them back in another AO3 fic, but they won't be the main characters this time around. The idea is still in the works - but stay tuned over the next few months!
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for reading and for keeping me motivated to write. See you all next time!   
> <3 <3 <3 xxx


	13. Epilogue: An Alfred Approved Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months after Edward and Alfred FINALLY started dating, it's Christmas in the village of Highbury, and the return of Will Peel means yet more shenanigans to deal with, not to mention the fact that Florence wants Alfred's advice again.  
> Still, at least the boys have each other now!
> 
> Warning: Copious amount of Christmas fluff ahead...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware that this Christmas fic is a day late - I meant to post it by the end of Christmas day but it's long, whoops...
> 
> Hopefully the Christmas fluff will make up for the delay, though! Enjoy!

“Edward, darling…” 

“What?” Edward asks, looking up from his laptop at the cafe counter, already sounding defensive.

“I told you _not_ to come out in public wearing that jumper,” Alfred sighs. 

“Yes, and I ignored you,” Edward responds stubbornly. “I happen to like this jumper. It’s Christmassy! If I can’t wear it now, then when _can_ I wear it?”

“Never?” Alfred suggests. “I know you’re gorgeous and you can get away with wearing most things” - Edward’s cheeks flush pink - “but that jumper is just completely ridiculous. I mean, you look like Colin Firth at that Christmas party in Bridget Jones’s Diary, for god’s sake!” 

“So I get the girl?” Edward answers, unfazed. “Or the boy, in this case, I guess.”

He raises his eyebrows at Alfred, smirking slightly, and Alfred feels himself blushing immediately.

“You know full well you’ve already _got_ the boy,” he mutters. “But don’t change the subject,” he adds hastily, trying to recover some of his pride. “You might not _always_ have the boy, if you insist on wearing Christmas jumpers that are quite so stupid!”

“You’re not going to leave me over this jumper, though, are you?” Edward asks, grinning at him. 

Alfred huffs, feeling his cheeks turning pink again. 

He knows when to admit defeat. Sitting there at his laptop with his reading glasses on and his hair curling against his forehead, Edward looks even more distractingly gorgeous than usual - despite the hideously naff red Christmas jumper he’s wearing, complete with reindeer and their protruding pompom noses. 

“No,” Alfred admits. “I’m not going to leave you over that jumper - I’m not going to leave you over _anything_ , in fact.”

It’s Edward’s turn to flush this time. He beams at Alfred, his whole face glowing, and Alfred can’t help but smile softly back at him, feeling his heart swelling with love in his chest as always. 

It’s been six months since Edward _finally_ confessed his love, six months since the two of them subsequently started dating, and Alfred _still_ can’t really believe how lucky he is. Every time he looks at his best-friend-turned-boyfriend, he feels his heart leap with happiness, just as it had done on that night when Edward had come back to the apartment and told Alfred that he loved him. Alfred still isn’t quite convinced that he’s good enough for Edward - in fact, he’s not sure he ever _will_ be convinced, despite the number of times Edward has told him how amazing he is. But he’s certainly been doing his best to be worthy of him over the last six months, cuddling him, making and buying gifts for him on a whim, talking him through his occasional anxiety attacks, even doing his best to make pancakes for Edward using his traditional recipe, though they never seem to come out quite as fluffy as they are when Edward cooks them. 

So...surely he’s earned the right to tease his boyfriend every now and then, just a little? 

“Regardless,” Alfred says, forcing himself to come back to the present. “We all know I adore you, Edward - but that doesn’t stop it from being a _terrible_ jumper.”

“I agree with Alfred,” Charlotte pipes up suddenly from her seat next to Edward at the counter, finally turning away from Cecilia to give her older brother a shit-eating grin. 

“What?!” Edward protests. “Char, you’re the one who _gave_ me this jumper in the first place!” 

Charlotte’s grin grows wider. 

“I know that,” she responds. 

“I was the one who picked it out for you though, Edward,” Cecilia pipes up. 

Alfred snorts, exchanging a grin with Cecilia, while Edward sighs, rubbing a hand wearily across his forehead. 

“Of course you were,” he mutters. “You’re not _all_ just going to gang up on me, are you?”

“Yeah, I think we are, actually,” Charlotte answers. 

“Oh, come on,” Edward huffs. “Flo? This jumper isn’t _that_ bad, right?” he asks, turning to Florence for backup. 

“What?” Florence asks absentmindedly, finally looking away from Mina. The two of them have been leaning towards each other over the counter throughout this conversation, murmuring quietly to each other, elbows on the counter, hands entwined. Florence still has a dopey, lovestruck grin on her face as she looks up at Edward, and she doesn’t bother to disentangle her hand from her girlfriend’s. Alfred grins to himself - evidently, neither of them have been listening to the others’ conversation in the slightest. 

“I said,” Edward repeats patiently, “you don’t think this jumper is that bad, do you? They’re all bullying me - but you’re on my side, right?” 

“Oh,” Florence says, a touch awkwardly, as though she’s still not quite sure what they’re all going on about. “Right. Um...yes, it’s a very nice Christmas jumper.” 

“Thank you, Flo,” says Edward, giving Alfred a satisfied look, as though he’s proved his point admirably. 

Alfred huffs a laugh, feeling the by-now-familiar sensation of his heart melting in his chest. 

“What?” Edward asks indignantly. 

“Nothing,” Alfred answers, grinning as he shakes his head. “Just...I love you, that’s all.” 

Edward flushes scarlet immediately. Alfred rolls his eyes affectionately - no matter how many times he says those words to his boyfriend, Edward still blushes every time as though it’s the first time he’s ever heard it. It’s hopelessly adorable. 

Instinctively, he leans across the counter, pressing his lips gently against Edward’s, grinning a little as he feels Edward’s lips curving into a smile against his. It’s easy to sink into his boyfriend, to get lost in the feeling of his soft mouth - or at least, it would be, were it not for the exaggerated groan of annoyance from said boyfriend’s sister. 

“Can we go back to discussing Edward’s jumper, please?” Charlotte complains. “Some of us are trying to eat here! I mean, my _god_ , get a _room_!”

“I’ve been telling them that for _months_ ,” sighs Victoria, suddenly appearing as if from nowhere, laden with bags of coffee beans from the back room. “But unfortunately it still hasn’t seemed to get through their thick skulls yet.” 

“She even tried to tell Edward to stop coming into the cafe and distracting me at one point,” Alfred tells Charlotte, grinning.

“Yes I did,” Victoria confirms, sighing again. “But sadly, I realised that this sap sitting here drinking all our coffee while he flirts his head off with Alfred is actually half of our income. So, against my better judgement, I let him come back.”

“I’ll order another coffee?” Edward offers apologetically.

Victoria narrows her eyes at him. “Fine. As long as you bloody tone it down a bit with the PDAs, and maybe encourage Alfred to actually do his job for once rather than just making out with you over the counter? I swear, between you two and Florence and Mina over there, it’s a wonder we have any other paying customers left.” 

“Come on, Vic, it’s nearly Christmas!” Alfred protests. “Surely we can afford to relax just a little bit? Anyway, you told me yourself you were glad we’d finally gotten our shit together and put everyone out of their misery!” 

“Yeah, I said that six months ago, Alfred,” Victoria points out. “At the time, I didn’t think anything could be more annoying than you two and your obvious pining, but you’ve definitely put that theory to the test since then. Flirting and making out left right and centre everywhere I turn…”

Edward flushes crimson again.

“Stop being mean to us,” Alfred complains. “You don’t want me to have to retract your invitation to our Christmas party, do you?” 

“Who are you now, Pippa Elton?” Victoria snipes.

Alfred sniggers a little. It’s strange to think how often Pippa used to come to the cafe - especially as she apparently used to come here solely to hit on him, not that he ever realised that at the time. He supposes it’s lucky she never really shows up here anymore - he’s not entirely sure she’d appreciate the fact that her name has essentially become a byword for immature, petty bitchiness. 

“Pippa _Hawkins_ now, remember?” Alfred reminds Victoria.

“Whatever, like I give a shit,” she responds, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, as if you’d ever retract my invitation - I’m the main draw for all your other guests, dorks. Besides, you know I’m your favourite.”

“Actually, Edward’s my favourite,” Alfred objects, making his boyfriend blush again. “But...okay, yeah, you’re my second favourite,” he admits reluctantly. 

“Hey!” Cecilia and Florence say simultaneously and indignantly; apparently Florence has finally torn herself away from Mina long enough to listen to the conversation. Alfred shrugs and grimaces at the two of them apologetically. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Victoria replies, smirking slightly as she rolls her eyes. “Anyway, some of us are adults and actually do our jobs at work instead of flirting, so I’m gonna go. The point is - get a room, losers.” 

“Love you too, Vic,” Alfred answers sardonically, as Victoria picks up a box of sugar with a huff and heads back to the storeroom. 

“She has a point, though,” Edward admits, grimacing slightly. “I should probably stop distracting you for once.” 

Alfred turns back to his boyfriend, pouting slightly. He opens his mouth to remind him that technically, _he_ was the one who had distracted _Edward_ from his work - as per usual - but he is distracted by the tinkling sound of the bell above the door, announcing a new arrival. 

Turning towards the door, Alfred can’t help but grin at the sight of two people he hasn’t seen in almost six months - the incorrigible Will Peel, hand in hand with his endlessly patient boyfriend James Grey. 

“I know you’re all _very_ excited to see me,” Will announces loudly, “but no autographs, I’m afraid. I’ve given out so many already, I’m exhausted. And that’s just this morning.” 

“Will, shut up, you’re going to get us thrown out for annoying everyone,” James huffs, though there’s an affectionate grin on his face even as he rolls his eyes at his boyfriend. 

“Eh, wouldn’t be the first time,” Will responds, shrugging as he grins down at James. 

“I was wondering when you two were going to come swanning in from your travels!” Alfred exclaims delightedly. “About time!”

“The one and only Alfred Paget,” Will sighs dramatically as he and James walk over to the counter, still hand in hand. “Oh, how I pined and missed you while we were away! Didn’t I, Jamie?”

“You missed me so much that it took you about three to five business days to respond to my messages on Instagram?” Alfred responds sardonically. “Every time, Will!” 

“Well, we didn’t always have WiFi!” Will protests, and Alfred can’t help but grin at Will’s expression of mock indignation. It really is good to see him again. “And there were lots of exciting things to see! And Jamie here was distracting me in the _very_ best of ways - so it’s really his fault, when you think about it.” 

Alfred rolls his eyes as James flushes scarlet, nudging his loudmouth boyfriend hard in the ribs. Edward, meanwhile, shifts uncomfortably in his chair at the counter; Alfred bites back a grin, knowing that his boyfriend is doing his utmost to keep his expression neutral rather than disapproving. 

“Welcome back, James - and Will,” he adds reluctantly. 

“Lovely to see you, Edward,” James says sincerely, smiling at him. “Merry Christmas.” 

“Of course, my pining for Alfred was _nothing_ compared to my longing for you, Drums,” Will says, flinging himself down into the free seat on Edward’s other side with a dramatic sigh. “Seriously, I was bawling into my pillow every other night...I mean, it wasn’t pretty. I was a _mess_ . I considered telling Jamie that I might have to leave him so I could run back to Highbury and confess to you that _you’ve_ been the man of my dreams, all along - but you know, I just couldn’t bring myself to break Jamie’s heart like that. Plus, Alfred here would get cross with me for stealing his man.” 

Alfred sees Edward’s jaw tightening as Will places a hand on his arm - always a warning sign. 

Of course Edward knows by now that there’s absolutely nothing between Alfred and Will, and there never has been - other than a spot of flirtation early on, or perhaps more than just a spot, if Alfred’s entirely honest with himself. But even though Edward and Alfred have been happily in a relationship for months now, as have Will and James, Edward’s sentiments towards Will don’t appear to have changed very much. There seems to be a fundamental personality clash between them, as far as Alfred can tell - Edward simply doesn’t _like_ Will very much. Will is naturally loud, flirtatious, boisterous, reckless and more than a little attention-seeking - the polar opposite of Edward, really. Edward had only very reluctantly agreed to invite both Will _and_ James over to their Christmas party, once Alfred had heard that they would be back in Highbury in time for Christmas. 

For his part, Alfred is rather fond of Will, despite his shenanigans, and he’d love it if his friend and his boyfriend could learn to get along with each other. But, he has to admit, Will’s teasing isn’t really doing much to help matters. 

“Okay!” Alfred says hastily, before Edward can respond to Will at all. “Who wants coffee? Don’t even pretend you’re going to have it black, Will - white chocolate latte?” 

James sniggers quietly as Will huffs.

“How do you know I haven’t developed a more mature and sophisticated palate while I’ve been away, Paget?” he protests.

“He hasn’t,” James assures Alfred. He grins as Will huffs again. 

“Fine, I haven’t. Can I have something Christmassy, please?” 

“Cinnamon gingerbread latte?” Alfred suggests. 

“Yum!” Will responds enthusiastically, his whole face lighting up. James sighs, rolling his eyes affectionately again. 

“Just a regular black coffee for me, thanks, Alfred,” he says with a smile, sitting down on his boyfriend’s other side. 

“Aww, don’t be so boring, Jamie, it’s _Christmas_!” Will complains. “Come on, join me, just this once!” 

James opens his mouth to shoot back a retort, but Will gazes back at him with the most ridiculous puppy eyes Alfred has ever seen, and James sighs, caving immediately. 

“Fine,” he says, rolling his eyes even as he smiles softly. “Make that two cinnamon gingerbread lattes, please.” 

“Coming right up,” Alfred responds with a grin. 

“So, how have you been, Edward?” James asks, leaning across his boyfriend to speak to Edward, with a slightly apologetic edge to his voice, as Edward is still leaning away from Will as much as he can, his jaw still tensed. “How has your work been going? You’re still writing articles for Robert, right?” 

“Yeah, I am,” Edward responds. “I’ve actually just been writing about homelessness in Highbury, there was this charity group that was organising a fundraiser for the Christmas period. You’ve probably already heard about it, actually…”

Alfred keeps half an ear on the conversation as he makes the ridiculously sweet lattes for Will and James. As he listens, he feels a sense of relief that Edward seems to be gradually getting more relaxed and less tense, mingled with the familiar feeling of pride in his boyfriend as he modestly discusses his work, as though what he does is nothing special. As though _he’s_ nothing special. Which is ridiculous, of course, given that there’s nobody more special than Edward in the world. God, Alfred thinks, shaking his head slightly at his own thoughts. Has he _always_ been this much of a sap?

“Here we are,” he announces, hoping to god that he doesn’t _look_ as hopelessly lovestruck as he feels, or he’s never going to hear the end of it from Will. “Two extra Christmassy cinnamon gingerbread lattes.”

“Thanks, Alfred,” James says, taking them with a grateful smile and passing one along to his boyfriend. 

“Cheers, Paget,” Will says, raising it in a toast. He turns to Edward. “Oh and by the way, Drums, I meant to say this when I came in - my blind eighty-year-old grandmother just called to tell you that even _she_ wouldn’t want to be caught dead in that Christmas jumper.” 

Alfred stifles a laugh, as Edward’s jaw tightens yet again.

“Thank you for your input, Will,” he answers, his voice positively dripping with sarcasm. 

“We already discussed the jumper before you got here,” Alfred informs Will. “We all made our opinions clear already, no need to rehash it.”

“Good,” Will responds, taking a sip from his latte. 

“You’re right though, it’s pretty shit,” Charlotte pipes up. 

Edward sighs, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Anyway, you know about us already,” Alfred says hastily, before his boyfriend can snap. “You two are the ones that have been gallivanting around Australia for the past six months - tell us about _your_ adventures! Are the spiders really as huge as people say?” 

Will makes a _pfft_ noise. 

“That’s just a lie they tell tourists to scare them,” he says scornfully. “If you’re spending a lot of time in the cities like Melbourne and Adelaide, like we did, you’re mostly only going to see tiny little spiders, same as you do over here.” 

“And yet, you were still prone to shriek and beg me to take them outside whenever you saw one,” James muses.

“What! That’s not true!” Will protests indignantly, looking at his boyfriend with an expression of deep betrayal on his face. James raises an eyebrow at him wordlessly, and Will sighs. “Okay, yeah, fine, it’s true,” he mutters. Alfred sniggers. 

“I assume you had other adventures though, besides fleeing in terror from the spiders?” he prompts.

“God, yes - _so_ many adventures!” Will answers, looking over at James, his face alight with the excitement of remembered travels. Despite himself, James smiles softly at the look on his boyfriend’s face. “Firstly, no offence intended to the coffee here, Alfred, it’s very nice, but you have not _lived_ until you’ve gone to the coffee shops on Degraves Street in Melbourne! Melbourne was our last stop before we came back, we only got back to Heathrow two days ago - it’s kind of disorientating seeing all the Christmas decorations up in the heat of summer, actually.”

“Was it _really_ boiling?” Alfred asks, intrigued.

He’d love to visit Australia, but he’s never had the chance so far. Maybe one day he’ll go with Edward, he muses, shooting him a little smile, his heart warming immediately when his boyfriend smiles softly back at him. 

“Melbourne and Adelaide weren’t so hot,” Will muses. “When we did a road trip across the Nullaboor - _that_ was pretty intense heat. But I loved it.”

“Mm...I think you might have been enjoying yourself a little bit too much,” James says.

“ _This_ again?” Will complains, pouting at him. “I only drove the car naked that one time!”

Edward chokes on a badly timed sip of coffee. 

“Okay, Will, it’s misleading to say ‘that one time’, when in fact you were driving naked for about eight straight hours,” James counters. 

“Well, it was hot! And there was literally nobody except you and me for miles around!” Will protests. 

“Yes, which was not ideal considering that you thought you’d entirely filled the petrol tank and it turned out that you had not, in fact, done that,” James reminds him. 

“I forgot! I already said it was my bad, remember?” 

“Wait, pause for a second,” Alfred interjects, thoroughly entertained. “Are you two about to tell us that you broke down? In the middle of the desert? With Will naked in the driver’s seat? How are you two even _alive?”_

“No, we very _nearly_ broke down in the middle of the desert,” James clarifies. “We managed to find a petrol station just in time, thank god. This idiot here couldn’t remember exactly where he’d put his clothes, though, so he curled up in the back seat inside a sleeping bag while I went into the petrol station, fully clothed, _like a normal person_ , and just pretended I was travelling by myself. I think the man at the till thought I was insane anyway, travelling by myself in the Nullaboor, but...I suppose it could be argued that I _am_ insane, given that I’m willingly dating this complete disaster.” 

“You still love me, though,” Will says, with a satisfied grin.

James huffs.

“Yeah. I do,” he admits. 

He turns back to the others, who have huddled around curiously to listen to tales of their adventures - even Florence and Mina have managed to tear themselves away from each other for once, Alfred notes with amusement. 

“Anyway, Will is the one who loved the heat when we were over there,” he continues. “I wasn’t as much of a fan - though I’m not as well-travelled as he is, of course. I usually prefer the cold, to be honest.” 

“Oh, Jamie, you know it’s not because you’re ‘not well-travelled,” Will objects, his face splitting into a shit-eating grin. “You preferred it when we were somewhere cold because it gave you a convenient excuse to snuggle up to me very tightly.” 

All heads swivel round to look at James, who blushes scarlet immediately.

“What...no...that’s not…” he splutters indignantly. 

“It’s true!” Will crows, looking positively gleeful at the reaction he’s caused. “Jamie here gets _very_ clingy and cuddly when he’s cold. And I personally think it’s unfair that everyone always assumes _I’m_ the corrupting influence in this relationship. Sometimes, when Jamie was _really_ cold - like when I persuaded him it would be a good idea to sleep under the stars, for instance - he’d get into a very particular _mood._ Wouldn’t you, Jamie? I would wake up to find that his tongue was already curled -” 

“Yes, _okay_ ,” James cuts him off hastily, his face now a deeper shade of crimson than Alfred had even thought possible. Alfred, Charlotte and Cecilia all cackle delightedly. “You don’t have to share _every_ detail about our trip, you know, Will.”

“No, you really don’t,” Edward mutters under his breath, looking scandalised. 

Alfred tries not to laugh at the expression on Edward’s face. Once upon a time, he had assumed that Edward, with his prudish and conservative family upbringing, was uncomfortable with sex in general. He knows better now, of course - his boyfriend is _more_ than comfortable with sex, as he can attest all too happily. But Edward still wouldn’t be hugely thrilled if Alfred were to start publicly boasting about how satisfied he is - as far as Edward is concerned, it’s something very private and personal between the two of them. Yet another area where he and Will Peel don’t see eye to eye, it seems. 

“Anyway,” James continues, pushing his chair back from the counter a little, “before you go blabbing any more about things that _nobody else needs to hear_ , Will, we’d better get going - we’re supposed to be meeting Robert and Emma, remember? I apologise for my idiotic boyfriend, everyone,” he says, turning to the others with a small smile, “but it was lovely to see you all and catch up! Looking forward to seeing you all at Edward and Alfred’s Christmas party! Will, are you coming?” he asks, turning back to his boyfriend and holding his coat out for him. 

“Just a moment, Jamie,” Will answers. To Alfred’s surprise, Will turns to Edward. 

“Hey, um...Drums?” 

“What?” Edward asks suspiciously, his jaw already tensing slightly again. 

“I was...well, I was kind of wondering if you might help me,” Will confesses, sounding much less sure of himself than usual. 

“What?” Edward asks, sounding just as shocked as Alfred feels. “You want _my_ help? What could _I_ help you with?” 

“Well...you’ve already bought a Christmas present for my dad, right?” Will asks. 

“Yeah, of course,” Edward responds. “Why?”

Will squirms uncomfortably in his seat, as though he’d really rather not be having this conversation. He glances at James, who nods encouragingly - evidently the two of them have discussed this beforehand. He takes a deep breath.

“Well, the thing is,” Will says awkwardly, “I still haven’t got him anything yet. I don’t really have the faintest clue how to buy presents for my dad, to be honest. We’ve never really…” He shakes himself slightly. “Anyway, my point is - I was wondering if there was any chance you could come and help me with a spot of Christmas shopping at some point before the party? Please?” 

He gives Edward a lazy grin, as if he’s eager to give the impression that this isn’t that important to him, that he could really take it or leave it - but Alfred can see the shifting nervousness in his expression, the vulnerability in his dark eyes. Will’s had to work up his courage to ask about this; evidently, it’s _really_ important to him. 

Edward hesitates; Alfred knows his boyfriend well enough to take one look at his furrowed brow and know exactly what internal dilemma he’s struggling with. On the one hand, Edward finds it near impossible to refuse _anybody_ when they ask him for help. But on the other hand, Will’s request would presumably involve Edward having to spend extended time with him - and Edward _really_ doesn’t enjoy spending time with Will Peel. 

“I…” Edward sighs. “Yeah, sure. I can try to help you find a present, Will. No problem.” 

“Amazing!” Will replies, his expression clearing a little as he grins at Edward. “You and I are gonna have a _great_ time together, Drums - finally a chance to get to know each other a little better, eh?” 

Edward grimaces a little at this, at which point Alfred feels the urge to jump in and rescue his boyfriend. 

“I’ll come along too, if that’s okay,” he says quickly. “I’m more than happy to help!”

“I’ll come too,” James adds. 

Alfred can practically feel Edward’s relief as the tension visibly leaves his shoulders. He _really_ didn’t want to be left alone with Will, apparently. 

“Great! The more the merrier!” Will answers cheerfully, standing up from his chair. “And you’re right, Jamie,” he says, turning to his boyfriend and pinching his ass gently, “we should probably get a move on.” He turns back to Edward. “Is tomorrow morning okay? We could meet outside Fords at about eleven?” 

“Sure, sounds great, if that’s fine for everyone else,” Edward responds, evidently doing his best to inject some enthusiasm into his voice. 

“Works for me,” Alfred says with a shrug. 

“Fabulous,” says Will brightly, “what fun we’ll have! See you tomorrow, then - can’t wait!” 

Edward makes a non-committal noise and darts a slightly panicked glance at Alfred. As Will and James leave, James looks back and shares a brief, conspiratorial look with Alfred. 

No doubt about it, Will and Edward are _definitely_ going to require supervision. 

* * *

Okay, Alfred thinks grimly to himself the next day - so this outing might not have been the best idea in the world. 

He doesn’t really know what Will’s problem is - _he’s_ the one who had asked Edward to come and help him in the first place. But now, after Edward has agreed and gone out of his way to help him shop, Will seems for some reason to be utterly determined to needle and tease Edward until he reaches the limits of his patience. And Edward doesn’t have a whole lot of patience to spare for Will to begin with. 

The four of them had started off in a clothes shop, browsing through various Christmas jumpers that Edward thought Robert might like. But, judging by the comments Will had made, he hadn’t been too impressed by that idea. 

“Um, Drums, no offence intended,” Will had sniggered, as Edward had pulled out a bright red Christmas jumper that was somehow almost as ridiculous as his own, with a hopeful expression on his face. “But I’m not entirely convinced that _you’re_ the best person to be giving me advice on good Christmas jumpers, given the absolute _monstrosity_ you were wearing in the cafe yesterday. I mean....do you not know what you look like? Did Alfred never teach you what a mirror is?” 

Alfred had had to fight to keep a straight face. 

“Oh come on, Will, it wasn’t _that_ bad,” he’d interjected, trying to keep the peace. 

“Oh please, Paget, you told me yourself that you’d had to have words with him about it,” Will had scoffed. 

“Well...yeah,” Alfred had admitted reluctantly. 

Edward had put the jumper back on the shelf, the muscle in his jaw tensing, his expression sour. 

“Okay, fine, no Christmas jumper,” he’d said brusquely. “Let’s just go look somewhere else then, shall we?” 

Will had been no less difficult when they’d gone to look at ties, wrinkling his nose and critiquing every tie that Edward had suggested. 

Now here they are in the local bookshop, and Alfred is feeling increasingly anxious. Edward really is doing his best to try and help, despite himself, but Will is _still_ pushing him, despite James and Alfred’s repeated attempts to make him back off. 

“How about this book?” Edward suggests, pulling one off the shelf in the politics section. _“Brexit: Where Did Britain Go Wrong?”_

Will grimaces. “God, I think I’d rather put an Australian redback spider in my mouth than read that book. Hell, I’d rather go on a date with _Pippa Elton._ ” 

“Yes, well, as you might recall, Will, we’re not actually looking for a present for _you_ , we’re looking for a present for your dad,” Edward says irritably, placing the offending book back on the shelf. Alfred exchanges an uneasy look with James, as Edward moves over to the history section and picks up another book. 

“Look, this one’s about the politics of the 1840s,” he announces, scanning the blurb. “Oh, it even specifically focuses on the repeal of the Corn Laws and its aftermath in 1846! Robert’s fascinated by that period!”

Will sniggers. 

“Dad’s not really _that_ tedious, that he’d actually willingly read something like that, is he? Well, actually, yeah, come to think of it, I guess he is. And you sound like you’d actually want to borrow that crap after I give it to him...god, it’s no wonder you and my father get along like a house on fire, Drums!” He turns to Alfred. “Does he read this kind of thing to you as a bedtime story?”

“Will, stop,” Alfred warns quietly, glancing at his boyfriend, who is very clearly _not_ amused. Will turns back to Edward. 

“My goodness, Drums, you _are_ looking tense,” he says cheerfully. “Look at that jaw! Has Alfred not been keeping you busy enough? Or is it just that you’re struggling to keep up with him, eh?” 

With a shit-eating grin, Will winks at him - and at that moment, Edward finally snaps. 

“Okay, you know what, Will?” he says furiously, slamming the book down on the nearest table so that another book falls to the floor. “Fuck you. You can look for your dad’s present by yourself. I’m done.”

“Edward!” Alfred protests, his tone coming out a little more scandalised than he had intended; but Edward acts as though he heard nothing, storming out of the bookshop before Alfred can react, slamming the door behind him. 

Immediately, Alfred turns on Will, feeling a potent combination of anger and anxiety rising in his chest. 

“What. The fuck. Was that?” he demands, narrowing his eyes in a death glare. 

“I concur,” James adds, turning to his boyfriend with his arms folded, looking like a sternly disappointed teacher. “What did you think you were _doing,_ Will?”

“What do you mean?” Will asks, looking rather taken aback at Edward’s hasty exit. 

“Will, don’t try to bullshit us,” Alfred snaps. “You’ve spent the last two hours pointlessly needling my boyfriend and taking the piss out of him! You just kept going and going, no matter how many times we tried to tell you to back off! Is it any _wonder_ he’d had enough?!” 

All of Will’s bravado seems suddenly to melt away. He looks down, scuffing his foot against the floor, awkwardly sheepish in the face of their anger. 

“Yeah, I guess I was being kind of a dick, wasn’t I?” he admits, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. 

“Just ‘kind of’?” Alfred scoffs. 

“I didn’t realise I was annoying Drums _that_ much,” he responds, with a nervous half laugh. 

“Yeah, well, you were,” Alfred answers, his worry about Edward making him much blunter than usual. “And now I’ve got to try and do some damage control.”

He takes his phone out of his pocket, quickly tapping the speed dial he’s saved for his boyfriend. Edward picks up after only three rings. 

“Alf?” he says. He sounds exhausted. 

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, doing his best to sound soothing. “Are you okay?” 

He can picture Edward shrugging and grimacing. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he mutters. “Or...I will be soon, at least. I just...I need a few minutes.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Alfred says reassuringly, glaring at Will in front of him, who shifts uncomfortably. “Where are you?” 

Edward sighs. 

“I’m sitting in _The Red Lion_ with a pint,” he responds, naming the village pub. “I just needed to cool off a bit. Well. You already knew that part, I guess.” 

He already sounds a little ashamed of his outburst. 

“That’s totally fair,” Alfred assures him, anxious for his boyfriend to know that he’s not blaming him for reacting to Will’s goading. “I’ll come find you, okay?”

Edward sighs again, though he sounds a little more relaxed this time. 

“Yeah, okay. See you soon.” 

“I love you,” Alfred reminds him gently. 

“I love you too,” Edward responds immediately. Alfred can practically hear his soft smile.

He hangs up, feeling a little calmer. 

“Where is he?” Will asks tentatively. Alfred scowls at him. 

“He’s in _The Red Lion_ ,” he answers. 

Will nods. 

“That’s the little pub down the end of the street, right? We passed it on the way here?” 

Alfred frowns suspiciously.

“Yeah - why do _you_ care?” he asks, still not feeling much in the mood to be charitable with his friend. 

“Right - I’m gonna go talk to Drums,” Will says decisively, pulling his coat on.

“ _What?”_ Alfred and James ask incredulously and simultaneously. 

‘I said, I’m going to go and talk to him,” Will repeats slowly and clearly. 

“Don’t be stupid, Will, he’s gone to take shelter in the pub _because_ of you!” Alfred says angrily. “You’re the one who upset him in the first place, for fuck’s sake!” 

“I’m aware of that, Alfred,” Will counters. “That’s why I’m going to go and apologise.” 

“Will, I’m really not sure that’s the best idea right now…” James says hesitantly. 

“It’s not,” Alfred agrees bluntly. “I just told him that _I_ was going to come and find him, Will. I didn’t tell him I was going to be showing up with _you_ -” 

“I never said you were coming with me, Paget,” Will says. “It’s not an open invitation. I think Drums and I are actually long overdue for a chat. A one-on-one chat, that is.” 

Alfred stares at him, trying to work out what he’s playing at, if he just wants the opportunity to taunt Edward some more. But he still looks genuinely ashamed of himself, his expression much more earnest than usual. 

“I...I don’t know, Will…” he says tentatively. 

“I’ll get him back to you in one piece, I promise,” Will says. He turns and presses a kiss to James’s cheek. “I love you. I’ll fix this, I swear.” 

Before either James or Alfred can say anything else, Will has darted out of the bookshop, the bell above the door tinkling as it closes behind him. 

Alfred exchanges an uneasy look with James. 

“Why do I _not_ feel reassured?” Alfred asks. 

James sighs. 

* * *

“Hi again, Drums,” says a tentative voice above Edward’s head. An unfortunately familiar voice. 

He looks up, instinctively clutching his beer glass closer to him, though it’s pretty much empty by this point. Even though he already knew full well who was speaking to him, he feels another hot surge of anger at the sight of Will Peel standing there, offering him an awkward smile. 

“What the hell are _you_ doing here, Will?” he asks bitterly. He knows he’s being rude, but at this point, considering the way Will had been behaving all afternoon, he really doesn’t care. “I’m actually waiting for my boyfriend right now. I _really_ don’t need to see _you_.”

“And yet, here I am!” Will replies, with an awkward attempt at a joking tone. Edward just glares at him, and Will sighs, the smile dropping away from his face, leaving his expression sheepish. “Look, I told Alfred that I needed to speak to you alone. I came to apologise.”

Edward raises one eyebrow. 

“Do you even know _how_?” 

“Come on, hear me out!” Will protests. 

Edward just glares at him stubbornly.

“At least let me buy you another round?” he asks, nodding towards Edward’s empty pint glass. 

Edward sighs. 

“Fine,” he says reluctantly. “One round.” 

Will grins, picking up the pint glass.

“Be right back,” he says, before ducking over to the bar. 

Edward sighs again, rubbing a weary hand over his forehead as he watches Will ordering. Why did he agree to this, again? And why did Alfred let _Will_ come in his stead? He’s a little hurt that Alfred would agree to leave Edward alone with him after all the crap that Will’s been putting him through this afternoon, if he’s honest. 

Will returns after only a few minutes, tentatively passing him a new pint. 

“Thanks,” Edward mutters grudgingly, as Will slides into the booth opposite him with his own glass, both of them tucked away in a relatively quiet corner of the pub. 

Will looks down at the table for a moment, chewing on his lip nervously, as though he’s trying to think how to phrase what he wants to say. Edward’s never seen him looking so uncertain. 

“Look, I really am sorry, you know,” he says eventually, looking up at Edward. “I shouldn’t have been antagonising you like that. I guess I got carried away. I was being a dick.” 

“Well...yeah, you were,” Edward answers, a little taken aback that he’s admitting it. “Even though I was trying to help you. Even though you were _literally the one who asked me for help in the first place._ ”

“I know,” Will answers, grimacing a little. “I’m sorry.” 

Edward shakes his head, staring at him.

“I don’t understand you,” he says bluntly. “I mean, let’s be honest, we’ve never really liked each other -”

“What are you talking about, Drums? I _adore_ you,” Will interjects sarcastically. Edward glares at him, and Will winces a little. “Sorry. Being an asshole again. Force of habit.” 

“But that’s precisely my point,” Edward responds. He sighs. 

“I used to be extremely jealous of you, you know, back when I thought Alfred had a thing for you. Only don’t tell Alf that,” he adds quickly. “He _loves_ being proved right. I’d never hear the end of it.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Will answers, the ghost of a grin flitting across his face. 

“But I guess I used to assume that you were being a dick to me for the same reason,” Edward continues. “I thought that _you_ had a thing for Alf too, so I assumed you probably saw me as a threat, even though _I_ didn’t even believe Alf had feelings for me at the time. But obviously I know now that you’re in love with James - you don’t feel that way about Alf, and you never did.”

“Nope - he’s all yours,” Will says with another awkward grin. 

“But then, that’s what I don’t understand!” Edward exclaims. “Why are you _still_ being a dick? Why do you _always_ feel the need to antagonise me? I mean, I was trying to _help_ you!”

“I know you were,” Will mutters. He shifts in his seat uncomfortably, looking down at the table as though trying to avoid Edward’s eyes. “The truth is, Drums…” he sighs. “I guess I’ve kind of got a bit of an inferiority complex going on where you’re concerned.” 

Edward blinks. _That_ certainly wasn’t what he’d expected. 

“Wait, what?” he asks, stunned. 

Will shrugs, looking up at him again.

“It’s just....you always seem to have everything together. Apart from your fashion sense, that is,” he adds, seemingly unable to resist the temptation for one more jab. Edward grimaces at him. “No, but seriously,” Will continues, “you know what you’re doing all the time, you’re kind and practical, you seem to have learnt to be comfortable with showing your emotions, which is basically witchcraft as far as I’m concerned, and everyone seems to adore you. Even my dad. _Especially_ my dad.” 

“Oh,” Edward says quietly, suddenly seeing where this is going. 

“To be honest, I’ve never really felt comfortable with my father,” Will says, with a shrug and a hollow little laugh. Edward has never seen him looking as vulnerable as he does now. “I think I’ve always wanted his approval, deep down, but I...I never really knew how to get it. Not without changing myself to be someone that I’m not, that is. So I gave up, really. Years ago. Pretended that I didn’t give a shit what my dad thought of me. It was easier that way. But _you_ , Drummond…” he looks at Edward with a trace of bitterness in his eyes. “ _You_ have his approval, without even particularly looking for it, without even trying, as far as I can tell. My father _adores_ you. Probably wishes you were his son rather than me....

Will takes a deep, steadying breath. 

“I’ve been trying to start a fresh slate with Dad, since I came clean about dating Jamie,” he explains. “So I wanted to show him that I was making more of an effort, by giving him a Christmas gift that he would really appreciate. But the problem is that I don’t really understand my dad, and I have no clue how to shop for him; I froze up because I was overthinking it so much and I kept on putting it off. Eventually Jamie encouraged me to ask _you_ for help, because you’re close to Dad and you know him so well. I needed your help, but I was embarrassed about it and it kind of upset me that I had to ask for help with my own dad, that getting his approval seems to come so naturally and easily for you. So I guess I reverted to the old trusty coping mechanism of covering up my insecurities by being an obnoxious asshole. I keep taking my own issues out on you, Drums, and it really isn’t fair of me, I know that. I should probably start going to therapy again. But I really am sorry for the way I behaved today, and I really am grateful for your help. I hope you can believe that.” 

Edward stares at him, his anger and irritation fading away. He would never in a thousand years have expected Will Peel to be so honest and open with him. 

“I do believe you,” he says after a moment. “And I accept your apology, Will.” 

Will breathes a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing a little. 

“But I also think you’re wrong,” Edward continues.

Will frowns.

“What do you mean?” 

“Your dad would _not_ rather have me as a son,” he says, gently but certainly, looking straight at Will so he’s forced to meet his eyes. “Seriously. Take it from somebody who tried and tried to please their father for _years_ before giving up on him. I realised eventually that I was never going to be the son my father wanted - he wanted me to be straight as a rod and completely lacking in empathy, for starters, like him.”

Will stares at him in shock, as though it had never occurred to him that Edward’s life hadn’t always been perfect and full of adoration from everyone around him.

“Eventually I realised that was his problem, not mine,” Edward continues, smiling a little at the look on Will’s face. “My sister and I left and Alfred’s family took us under their wing. They became our new family. And of course, your dad has always been really kind to me,” he adds, inclining his head in Will’s direction. 

Will’s mouth twists into a slight grimace at this, and Edward hurries to press his point, in case Will thinks he’s trying to taunt him.

“But the point is that _your_ dad is nothing like _my_ dad,” he says gently. “I mean, Robert was a bit thrown when you told him you were dating James, yeah. But he wasn’t _angry_ \- as I recall, he was desperately trying to get through to you when you went to London, trying to apologise for making you feel like you had to hide, right?” 

“Well...yeah,” Will admits. 

“Whereas _my_ dad was furious and threatened to throw me out of the house when he discovered that I was into boys,” Edward points out. “Charlotte and I left of our own accord before he could, but...Look, this isn’t a ‘who’s-had-it-worse’ thing, or anything like that. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think your dad dislikes you at all, Will. I mean sure, maybe the two of you have never understood each other all that well. But I really think he loves you. And I know you haven’t intentionally been shutting each other out, or anything, but...I genuinely think Robert wants to connect with you and be close to you. He just needs you to give him a chance, that’s all. Maybe you could try to spend a little extra time with him, while you and James are back in Highbury for Christmas?”

Will swallows, as though he’s trying to pull himself together a little. 

“Well, look at you go, Drums,” he says, offering Edward a grin. “Alfred definitely bagged himself a smart one, eh?” 

Edward laughs. 

“That’s what I like to tell him,” he responds, grinning back at Will. 

It feels strange to be on friendly terms with him, or friendly-ish, at least. But it’s nice. 

“You’re right. I should make an effort to spend a bit more time with Dad,” Will says with a sigh. “Actually, he and Emma invited me over for dinner this evening. I was going to just skip out with Jamie because I felt awkward about it, but on second thought…” 

He pauses, offering Edward another nervous grin. 

“D’you want to come and have dinner at my dad’s place? Just as backup, I mean. Moral support.” 

Edward hesitates. He’s meant to be having takeaway with Alfred and Florence tonight, while they discuss the final organisation details for the Christmas party tomorrow. But he supposes he can hang out with his boyfriend and their friend any night and, characteristically, Alfred is all over every last detail of the party already - or at least, he thinks he is, Edward amends, smiling to himself. It seems like Will needs his help more than Alfred does at the moment.

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good. Hang on, let me just text Alf to let him know I’ll be home late…” 

He takes his phone out of his pocket and types out a quick text to Alfred, grinning a little as he pictures the expression on his boyfriend’s face when he learns that Edward is going to be spending the evening voluntarily hanging out with Will Peel. 

“Okay, done,” he announces, as he presses send. “Now, are we going to go back and actually find a Christmas present for your dad?”

“Oh...right, yeah,” Will responds, with a sheepish grin. 

They both stand up, pushing their chairs in.

“I apologise for swearing at you earlier,” Edward says. “And for storming out.” He hopes he sounds more dignified than he feels. “But could you please try to be less of a dick this time?” 

Will gives him another awkward grin.

“I’ll try my best.” 

* * *

“You want the last spring roll, Flo?” Alfred asks, proffering the box.

Florence grins at him. 

“You usually make Edward fight you for it,” she responds. “I’ve seen you two wrestling over them!”

Alfred laughs.

“Yeah, well, it’s nearly Christmas, and I’m feeling generous,” he answers with a shrug. 

No need to tell her that he and Edward only ever bother fighting over the last bit of food because it makes them both extremely turned on. That’s probably something that would fall under the category of ‘too much information.’ Granted, Florence is absolutely smitten with her girlfriend and she’s long since over Edward, but still. There are some things she just doesn’t really need to know. 

Alfred is still bemused by the fact that Edward apparently not only accepted Will’s apology, but also willingly volunteered to spend the evening with him. When Edward had texted him to let him know, Alfred had actually called to check on him, just to make sure Will hadn’t taken his phone for a prank or something. 

He has no clue what Will had said to Edward, but it must have been pretty significant if his boyfriend was now willingly spending time with the man who had been needling and antagonising him all afternoon. Whatever Will and Edward had discussed, though, Alfred is glad of it - he never thought he’d see the day when those two were being not just civil, but actually friendly. 

And yeah, he misses Edward a bit right now - but at the same time, it’s nice to get a bit of one on one time with Florence. They barely ever get to hang out just the two of them any more, given that Alfred is so frequently occupied with Edward, and Florence with Mina. 

“More wine?” Alfred asks, proffering the bottle of white. 

“Thanks,” Florence says, passing her glass to Alfred. 

He watches her drink, looking suddenly as though she’s miles away. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, grinning slightly. 

Florence lowers the glass slowly, looking at Alfred as though she’s only just remembered that he’s there. 

“I was just thinking…” she says uncertainly. “Alfred, could you maybe give me a bit of advice?”

He looks bemusedly at her over the rim of his own glass. 

“Um...are you sure, Flo?” he asks. “You know I’ve kind of been trying to wean myself off the whole ‘advice’ thing. I mean, obviously I want to help you, I just don’t want to say the wrong thing…” 

“I know, I’d just appreciate a second opinion, that’s all,” Florence responds reassuringly. 

“It’s about Mina.”

“Mina?” Alfred repeats, taken aback and a little alarmed. “What about her? Are you guys -”

“Well, it’s not exactly about Mina, I guess,” Florence amends. “Well, only indirectly. It’s more about...my dad, actually.” 

“What?” Alfred asks blankly, frowning. “Your dad? I thought he’s back in Scotland? I thought you weren’t even in contact with him any more?” 

“He is,” Florence replies, “and I wasn’t, not until recently. He called me out of the blue the other day. He was quite uncharacteristically friendly, actually.” 

“Oh,” Alfred answers, not quite sure what the right response is here. “And, um...what did he want? Did he just want to catch up, or…?”

“Well, he said that because it’s coming up for Christmas and I haven’t been home in ages, he wanted me to come back to Scotland and visit the family over Christmas.”

“Okay…” Alfred says slowly, still wondering what this has to do with Mina. 

Florence sighs, her shoulders slumping. As she continues speaking, her hands start to twist together anxiously. 

“He said I’d be able to stay over in the spare room, and that I was welcome to bring my new boyfriend if I had one. And I told him I _am_ in a relationship, but with a girlfriend, not a boyfriend. And…” she sighs again. “And that’s when the conversation started going downhill really quickly.” 

“What do you mean?” Alfred asks. 

He hates the way she seems to have shrunk into herself, looking once again like the timid, nervous girl she’d been when she’d first arrived in Highbury over a year ago. 

“He was like _‘what do you mean, you’ve got a_ girlfriend _?’_ He seemed really angry. Disgusted, I guess.” She swallows, avoiding Alfred’s eyes. “He said I could come home for Christmas - but only as long as I didn’t bring my girlfriend with me. He told me that Mina wasn’t welcome.” 

“He _what_?” Alfred asks furiously.

“Yeah,” Florence sighs. 

“So what did you say?” he asks. 

She shrugs awkwardly.

“Nothing, yet,” she admits. “He said to me _‘you have a think about your priorities’_ and then hung up. And now I’m not sure what to do.” 

Alfred stares at her.

“I mean, there’s no way I’m breaking up with Mina,” Florence says hastily. “I love her. But I’m not sure how to tell her about all this, because I’m pretty sure it would upset her. And I’m not sure what to do about my dad either. I mean, that’s the first time he’s contacted me in ages, and it _would_ be nice to see the other people in my family, but...well, he was being an asshole about Mina and about the fact that I’m dating a woman. So I’m not really sure what I should say to him. I mean, I know what I _want_ to say to him, but - ”

“If you know what you want to say to him, then why are you coming to me for advice?” Alfred asks.

“Well, I…” Florence hesitates. “What I want to say to him isn’t exactly going to make him any less angry. It’s, um, not the friendliest. I don’t think it’s the best idea for solving the conflict. Besides, I’m not entirely sure I’m brave enough to say it to him, and it might just…” 

“Flo, look at me,” Alfred says firmly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder before she can disappear into an anxiety spiral, like Edward tends to when he thinks about his family. She glances up at him. “Firstly, you need to give yourself more credit,” he says. “You _are_ brave enough to stand up to your dad. And secondly, the only advice I’m going to give you is to trust your own instinct.” 

“Trust my own instinct?” Florence repeats, frowning slightly.

“Yeah,” Alfred confirms, grinning a little. “I think you already know what you want to say to him, what you _should_ say to him. And yeah, I’ve been trying to be cautious about giving advice recently, but in this instance I really don’t think you _need_ my advice, or anyone else’s. I think you already know what the right thing to do is - you’re just used to asking for other people’s permission, and you’re not used to trusting yourself.” 

Florence stares at him for a moment, before grinning sheepishly.

“Thank you, Alfred,” she says. “I think you might be right. In fact…” she takes a deep breath. “Can I go into the other room for a minute, please? I need to make a call.”

“Absolutely,” Alfred responds immediately, grinning back at her. “You can go to the spare room - take as long as you need.” 

“Thanks,” she says with a smile. Florence picks up her phone from the coffee table, takes another deep breath, and walks slowly towards the spare room that was once Edward’s bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her. 

Alfred gets up to pick up the takeaway boxes scattered around the coffee table and sets about cleaning up, trying to keep himself occupied, keep himself from worrying about Florence and what she might be saying to her dad.

The thought of her father being so nasty about her relationship with Mina makes his blood boil. He’s a little surprised that Florence even felt she had to come to him for advice - but then, he forgets sometimes how shaky her confidence in herself can be. That’s probably her father’s fault as well, he thinks to himself, feeling another surge of anger as he stacks the dishwasher. 

It’s _really_ difficult to resist the temptation to go over to the spare room and check if she wants any help, if she wants him to speak to her father on her behalf. It’s difficult to push away the worry that he’d got the wrong end of the stick somehow, that Florence isn’t going to say what he thinks she’s going to say. 

But no, he reminds himself. This isn’t up to him. And Florence is perfectly capable of doing this all by herself. 

Alfred sighs, pressing play on the Christmas episode of his favourite podcast to distract himself while he washes up. 

But to his surprise, Florence emerges from the spare room only a few minutes later, phone in hand. Alfred looks at her anxiously, wondering if he needs to comfort her, but to his relief he sees that she’s beaming. 

“Did it go okay?” he asks.

“Well, not so much for Dad, I guess,” she responds happily. “But yeah, it definitely went okay as far as I’m concerned!”

Alfred can’t help but grin at the exhilarated look on her face. 

“I’m glad,” he says. “Am I allowed to ask what you said to him?” 

“Of course you are,” she answers, grinning wider. “I made it clear that if I’m not allowed to go back to Scotland for Christmas with Mina, then I’m not going back at all. And,” she adds, looking rather surprised and delighted at her own daring, “I also told him, in no uncertain terms, that if he thinks I’m going to dump my girlfriend just to please him, then he can get fucked.” 

Alfred grins at her delightedly.

“ _Florence Kerr_!” he says, impressed. 

“What?” she asks, looking a little nervous again. “Do you think I went too far?” 

“What? No, silly!” he says, shaking his head. He strides forwards to give her a hug. “I’m just - I’m just so proud of you! See, I told you you don’t need my advice!”

“Huh. I guess maybe you were right,” Florence replies, grinning as she hugs him back.

“Don’t let Edward hear you saying that,” Alfred jokes, just as the front door opens to reveal Edward himself, looking rather exhausted. 

“Don’t let me hear Flo saying what?” he asks, looking curious at the sight of them hugging. 

“Oh, speak of the angel,” Alfred says with a grin, disentangling himself from Florence so that he can go and greet his boyfriend with a kiss. “Flo was just telling me that I was right, so I was saying she shouldn’t let you hear that, or I’d never hear the end of it.” 

“Uh oh,” Edward responds teasingly. “What were you right about this time?”

Alfred hesitates and turns to Florence, unsure if this is something he’s allowed to share with Edward. Florence checks her watch and smiles. 

“Well, it’s a bit of a long story,” she replies. “And unfortunately I should probably get going, I’m meant to be meeting Mina. But you’re more than welcome to fill him in on the essentials, Alfred.”

“You sure?” Alfred asks, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“Positive,” she answers, smiling at him as she puts her coat on and picks up her bag. She still seems to be practically bouncing with excitement, her movements lighter, as though a burden has been lifted off her shoulders. “Anyway, I’m sorry, Edward, but I’d better run. I’ll just say a quick hello/goodbye…” She stands up on her tiptoes to give Edward a brief hug. “I’ll see you both at the Christmas party tomorrow - it’s here, right?”

“Yep,” Alfred answers. “And Flo -” she turns back to face him, her hand on the doorknob - “ _super_ proud of you.” 

Florence beams again, before waving at the two of them and practically skipping out of the apartment. 

“Well, she certainly looks happy,” Edward comments with a small grin. “Why are you proud of her? What for?”

“I’ll explain in a minute,” Alfred replies, “you look exhausted.” 

“I guess I am, a bit,” Edward answers.

“No wonder, with the day you’ve had!” Alfred says sympathetically. “Tea?” 

“Tea would be wonderful, thank you,” Edward answers with a small sigh, flopping down on the sofa. 

“Coming right up!” he replies, switching the kettle on and opening the cupboard to dig around for Edward’s favourite brew. 

A few minutes later, Alfred carefully carries a mug and a plate of biscuits over to his boyfriend, who is now sitting with his long limbs splayed out carelessly, his head tilted back against the sofa cushion behind him.

“Thanks, gorgeous,” Edward says, taking the mug from Alfred with a grateful smile. 

“So what the hell was that all about with Will?” Alfred asks. “You agreed to spend the rest of the _day_ with him? I hope he bloody well apologised first!”

“He did, don’t worry,” Edward reassures him, taking a careful sip of his tea. 

“Did he say _why_ he was being such a dick to you?” 

“Well, it’s a bit of a long story, but apparently he’s been really nervous about trying to connect with Robert,” Edward replies. “To cut a long story short, he was upset and embarrassed about having to ask me for help with Robert’s present, because he was secretly worried that his dad preferred me - so he lashed out and started being a sarcastic asshole to make it seem like he didn’t care.”

“Ah,” Alfred says, grimacing slightly. He had suspected Will’s issue might be something along those lines. “Classic Will Peel defence move, then.”

“Yep, pretty much,” Edward answers, shrugging as he takes another sip of tea. “Anyway, I told him I was pretty sure he was wrong about his dad not liking him, and that I thought Robert still wanted to connect with him, if Will just gave him the chance. So then he asked me to come with him to his dad’s place for dinner, as moral support. But we went back to find Robert a present first.” 

“Wow,” Alfred says, trying to take it all in. It’s hard to imagine Will asking _anyone_ for moral support, let alone Edward. “And what did you end up getting for Robert in the end, then?” 

“I think we ended up deciding on the book about the 1840s, actually.”

“What, the one that Will was bitching about?” Alfred laughs.

“Yep, that’s the one,” Edward replies, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip of tea. 

“So is Will okay?”

“Yeah. I think so,” Edward answers, looking thoughtful. “Still a bit weird around his dad, I think, but he’s getting there. He’s definitely making an effort.”

“Well, that’s good at least,” Alfred muses.

“Yep.” Edward takes another sip of tea, before turning back to his boyfriend, a curious grin on his face.

“So? Are you going to tell me why you’re proud of Flo?”

“Oh, right…”

He quickly recounts the main parts of the story. Edward looks rather impressed when he’s done.

“I’m kind of surprised Flo even thought she _needed_ advice - it seems like a pretty open-and-shut-case,” he remarks. 

“Well, she’s not very good at trusting herself and her judgement, as you might have noticed,” Alfred answers. Edward grimaces slightly, acknowledging the truth of the statement. “But in the end, she realised she didn’t need my advice anyway.”

“And did she _really_ tell her dad that he could get fucked?” Edward asks, a gleam of amusement in his dark eyes.

“Apparently,” Alfred replies. “In precisely those words, as I understand it.”

“And you’re _sure_ you didn’t interfere, or tell her what to say? Not at all?” 

“Not at all!” Alfred confirms indignantly. “I literally told her she didn’t need my advice, and she should trust her own instinct!”

“Okay, I was just checking,” Edward reassures him, grinning. “I’m proud, too. Of Flo, but of you, too.” 

“What? Why? What did I do?” 

“Well, you let her come to her own decision without trying to steer her - you would _never_ have done that a year ago!”

“Huh. I guess not,” Alfred muses. 

Edward puts his mug down on the table, pulling Alfred close to his chest, where Alfred happily curls up against him. 

“So? Is that it?” Edward asks, resting his chin on top of Alfred’s head. “We won’t have to hear any more about Flo’s stupid dad?” 

“I mean...I’m considering sneaking a look at his number in her contacts list, just so I can text him and tell him precisely where to get off, in my own words. In case he didn’t get the message,” Alfred replies, grinning.

“Alf!”

“I’m kidding! Mostly....” 

Edward looks down at him, raising an eyebrow wordlessly. 

“Whatever, I’ll make sure to put a polite ‘Merry Christmas’ at the end. It will be fine.” 

Sighing and rolling his eyes affectionately, Edward presses a kiss to the top of Alfred’s head. Alfred can feel his boyfriend grinning against his hair. 

* * *

_Christmas Eve_

“Edward…”

“Hmm?” Edward looks up anxiously, halfway through sipping from his champagne glass. 

“There’s no need to look so nervous,” Alfred says with a grin, feeling his heart swelling at the adorable expression on his boyfriend’s face. “I was just going to tell you that your collar is inside out. Again.” 

“Oh. Right,” Edward replies, without actually making any move to fix it. 

So, with a small sigh, as though he hasn’t been itching to do it anyway, Alfred reaches up to fix Edward’s collar, standing up on his tiptoes to press a soft kiss to the back of his neck while he’s at it. Predictably, Edward blushes at the display of affection, however subtle, and Alfred can’t help but grin as he steps back again.

He glances around their living room, cast in the soft glow of fairy lights, watching their friends and family milling about chatting to each other, laughing, eating and drinking, placing presents around the main Christmas tree. 

They have two in their apartment; Alfred firmly believes that Christmas trees are supposed to be understated and elegantly decorated in a subtle colour scheme, while Edward holds that Christmas trees are meant to be joyful and vivid, the more colourful and filled with naff ornaments and baubles, the better. It’s the same philosophy he applies to his Christmas jumpers, Alfred supposes. So, as a compromise, they’ve ended up with two, which they’ve dubbed ‘classy tree’ and ‘tacky tree.’ Alfred had managed to persuade Edward that the classy tree should be the one front and centre during their party while they have guests round, at least. 

“I think we did a pretty good job,” Alfred remarks to Edward with a grin.

“You mean _you_ did a pretty good job,” Edward corrects him. “You’re the one who organised everything. I just strung up the fairy lights in all the places you can’t reach.” 

Alfred laughs.

“Okay, yeah, it was mostly me,” he agrees. 

Looking around the room, he can’t help but smile at the sight of Florence and Mina snuggled up together on the sofa, Mina with her head resting against Florence’s shoulder, Florence pressing a kiss to the top of her girlfriend’s head. And to think, this time last year, Alfred had actually been trying to set Florence up with _Pippa Elton_ , of all people. Thankfully, he and Edward seem to have ‘accidentally’ forgotten to invite Pippa and her husband this time around. 

“It’s weird to think how much has changed since this time last year, isn’t it?” he asks quietly, brushing his fingers gently against Edward’s. 

Edward looks sideways at him with a small smile.

“Good weird, though - right?” he murmurs, curling his fingers around Alfred’s. 

Alfred smiles back at him, revelling in this peaceful moment they’ve managed to steal in the corner, however briefly it lasts. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Definitely good weird.” 

True to form, Will appears out of nowhere to ruin their moment, already looking like he’s more than a few champagnes in. James is hovering at his shoulder, giving Alfred a sheepishly apologetic glance - presumably because of his failure to keep his boyfriend in hand. 

“I’m gonna give my dad his present now,” he announces, far more loudly than is necessary, given how close he’s standing.

“That’s a great idea, Will,” Alfred responds, trying and failing to keep a straight face. 

“I know. I’m excited to give it to him,” Will answers. He pauses for a moment, standing stock still, scanning the people in his eye line. 

“Wait, never mind, I can’t give it to him,” he says, pouting a little. “I can’t see him anywhere. I think he already left the party. Probably trying to get away from me.”

“He’s right over there, Will,” Edward corrects him, pointing to the opposite corner of the room. “See? He’s talking to Charlotte and Henry.” 

Will cranes his neck around to see.

“Oh, right,” he says, his expression nervous. He hesitates. “Well, he looks pretty busy, eh?” he reasons, shrugging casually as though it’s no big deal. “I can give it to him later, I don’t want him to get annoyed at me for interrupting. Or he might think I’m being weird and sappy, y’know? Maybe I should just give it to him another time…”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Will!” Alfred exclaims loudly, making Will jump a little. “James?”

“I’m on it,” James sighs, taking Will firmly by the hand and tugging him in Robert’s direction. 

Alfred sniggers at the alarmed expression on Will’s face as he’s led away, rolling his eyes as he turns back to Edward. 

“I swear, James has the patience of a _saint_ …” 

He frowns slightly, noticing that Edward has picked up a new glass from somewhere, the adorably anxious expression he was wearing earlier back again. 

“Hey, you okay?” he murmurs, squeezing his boyfriend’s free hand gently. 

Edward takes a deep breath and nods. 

“Yeah. I think I might just need a quiet moment away from everyone, that’s all.” 

Alfred feels his stomach sink a little. He knows his boyfriend is much more introverted than he is and tends to get a little overwhelmed at parties sometimes, and of course he respects Edward’s occasional need for space and quiet. It’s just that, even though they live together, there’s nobody else he’d rather be spending his evening with. 

“Oh. Okay,” he says, reluctantly disentangling his hand from Edward’s. “Take as much time as you need, I’ll be just here when you want me -”

But to his surprise, Edward immediately grabs his hand again. When Alfred turns back to him, he sees that Edward is rolling his eyes at him, an affectionate grin on his face despite the fact that he’s still buzzing with nervousness.

“I meant I want a quiet moment _with you_ , Alf,” he clarifies.

“Oh,” Alfred says with a grin, feeling immediately giddy. Now _that_ sounds more like it. 

Unnoticed by the others chatting merrily around the living room, the two of them slip hand in hand into their bedroom, closing the door gently behind them. 

“God, you remember our _last_ Christmas party?” Alfred asks, with a sheepish grin. “I still can’t believe that I genuinely thought _Pippa_ was into _Flo._ And all the while I had absolutely no clue that she was actually into _me_ …” He wrinkles his nose. “Gross.” 

Edward chuckles quietly. 

“Yeah, well, you’ve never been particularly good at noticing when someone is head over heels for you,” he points out.

Alfred huffs exaggeratedly. 

“Yes yes, I’m an oblivious idiot, we’ve been over this,” he says, poking Edward gently in the chest. Edward catches his hand, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of it. 

“She could never have deserved you, Alf,” he says quietly, bringing Alfred’s hand up to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss onto his knuckle. “Not in a million years.” 

Alfred feels his heart melting in his chest as usual. He smiles softly, remembering how the Christmas party last year had ended. 

“And then you came in here, back when this was just my room, to find me having a meltdown,” he muses. “The way you held me…” 

He pauses, his eyes tracing over Edward’s gorgeous face.

“God, I was _so_ dumb,” he whispers, raising his free hand to cup Edward’s cheek, stroking his thumb softly across his cheekbone. “I still can’t _believe_ it took me so long to realise I was in love with you. I mean, it was obvious, wasn’t it? All along.” 

Edward swallows, still looking nervous for some reason. He inches a little bit closer, closing his eyes and leaning in to rest his forehead against Alfred’s. 

“I love you so much, Alf,” he whispers. “I love you now, and I loved you back then, and I know I’ll love you just as much this time next year, if not more. I genuinely can’t imagine spending my life with anybody else.”

“Really?” Alfred murmurs, grinning, eyes still closed as he leans his forehead against Edward’s, unwilling to break the moment. 

“Really,” Edward affirms. He takes a deep breath. “And in fact, on that note…”

He moves away suddenly, and Alfred whines, having fully expected a kiss. 

“Edward, where are you going?” he protests, opening his eyes - and his heart stops in his chest. 

Edward is on one knee, holding out a ring box that seems to have come out of thin air. His hands trembling slightly, he opens the box to reveal a beautiful little vintage sapphire ring, the precious stones twinkling and catching the glow of the fairy lights that Alfred had insisted on hanging up even in their bedroom. 

“Alfred Paget,” Edward says quietly, “you are the love of my life. You always have been, and you always will be. Will you marry me?” 

For a moment, Alfred just stares at him, his throat thick with emotion. He’s not sure he _could_ speak if he tried.

“Alf?” Edward asks after a moment, his expression taking on a nervous edge again. 

Acting on pure instinct, Alfred kneels down on the floor, wraps his arms around Edward’s neck, and kisses him fiercely, trying to wordlessly communicate all the love that he feels, the love that feels too significant, too powerful, too eternal to be expressed in mere words. 

Finally, they break apart for air, Alfred impatiently brushing tears away from his cheek.

“I’m guessing that was a yes?” Edward jokes, his dark eyes glistening with tears too. 

“Of _course_ I’ll marry you,” Alfred breathes. “I can’t imagine spending my life with anybody else, either. I love you _so_ much.” 

Edward lets out a teary chuckle, sliding the sapphire ring carefully onto Alfred’s finger. 

For a moment they sit quietly together, foreheads resting against each other again. Alfred, for his part, is utterly dazed with happiness, praying that this isn’t just some fabulous dream he’s about to wake up from, wondering how he _ever_ got this lucky. 

“We should probably get back to the others,” he murmurs eventually. “Tell them the good news.” 

“Soon,” Edward murmurs in reply. “This moment belongs to us, only us. I don’t want it to end yet. I just want to keep holding you like this. Just for a bit.” 

Alfred blinks furiously, feeling another wave of emotion threatening to engulf him.

“Fair enough,” he whispers.

Edward takes a deep, shaky breath, as though trying to calm himself down, and looks up at the ceiling.

“I can’t believe you went to the effort of putting mistletoe right above our bed,” he says, with a small grin. “As if we weren’t going to be making out in here anyway.” 

Alfred grins back, leaning in closer, nuzzling his nose gently against his boyfriend’s - no, wait, his _fiance’s._

“Again?” Edward teases. “But we literally just -”

“It’s tradition, Edward,” Alfred reminds him. “Can’t break a tradition.” 

Edward rolls his eyes, still grinning.

“No. I guess not.” 

They lean in towards each other, kissing softly and sweetly, Alfred wishing he could somehow make this moment last forever. 

“Merry Christmas, Alf,” Edward murmurs, pressing gentle little butterfly kisses against his mouth. 

“Merry Christmas, Edward,” Alfred whispers against his fiance’s lips.

Yep, he thinks to himself, eyes still closed, not willing to come back down to earth just yet. 

Definitely his favourite Christmas so far. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, properly done with this little Austen-verse now, I think.  
> Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate, and Happy New Year - I'll be back with more writing in 2021!
> 
> Lots of love <3 <3 xx

**Author's Note:**

> Hope that seemed promising - it's always a balancing act in the first chapter between entertainment and exposition XD
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you think - comments and kudos make my day! <3 <3 xx
> 
> P.S. I'm going to be stuck in lockdown until mid-September and I'm quite excited about this new story - so you may find this being updated a bit more frequently than my other fics XD


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